Neverland
by MantoDea
Summary: AU. Death Note/Peter Pan crossover. Mello, Near, and Matt are brought to a strange place where children never have to grow up. When they get caught up in the fight between Pan and the nefarious pirate Captain Kira, will they or Neverland ever be the same?
1. Pan

**Disclaimers and warnings: **Neither Death Note nor Peter Pan belong to me. This is not a yaoi. Rated for language and 'stylized violence', as they say in Disney.

**AN:** As the summary said, this is a Death Note/Peter Pan crossover. I got the idea for this seeing in titles of other fics mentions of "Lost Boys"--and I thought, well, Lost Boys belong in Neverland! This is my first multichapter. I have a problem keeping up on long term projects, but I really hope to see this one through because I think it could either turn out rather silly or kind of fun. (Also, I apologize if I mess up Peter Pan references, I'm going off a memory that's a good fifteen years old.) I hope you enjoy it.

Chapter One: Pan.

There was a soft _thump_ in the darkness.

Near slowly opened one eye, breathing slowly and pretending to be asleep. Someone was in his room. Was Mello setting up some sort of nasty prank?

The window was open, and the moonlight outlined a crouched silhouette. It moved forward, to where Near remembered having left his Legos lying before bed. The figure suddenly dipped, and there was a louder thump followed by whispered cursing. It slowly unfolded again and Near could see through his slitted eye that it had a mop of unruly hair that didn't seem to fit Mello. Had a stranger broken into the orphanage? A burglar? But what kind of burglar would break into an orphanage? Near lay still, watching and debating over whether or not he should call out.

"Cherry?" came a whisper. "Cherry? Are you hiding in here?"

Cherry? What in the world was going on?

The figure slowly felt its way farther into the room. It did not seem to be terribly big; Near thought it might be another child, somewhat larger than himself. With a muffled yelp it tripped over another cluster of Legos. "Come on, Cherry, where are you?"

The likelihood that this was an armed burglar, Near decided, was extremely low. "Who's there?" he demanded.

There was a cry, a couple of hurried steps, and then a crash as the stranger stumbled over a pile of robots and went tumbling to the toy-encrusted floor. Throwing off the covers, Near scrambled to the door and flipped on the light. The sudden brightness revealed the mysterious figure to be a boy of perhaps twelve, about four years older than Near. His dark eyes, wide in alarm, and black hair sticking out in several directions added to his general air of disarray. In bewilderment Near took in the ragged, grass-stained shorts, dirty bare feet, black paint smudged on his cheeks, and what seemed to be feathers stuck in his hair—he appeared quite wild. But before Near could open his mouth to ask any of the several dozen questions racing through his mind, the boy leapt up and flew to the window—

—leapt up and flew—

—_and flew_—

"Wait!" Near cried.

The strange boy hesitated, crouched on the windowsill. "Wait," repeated Near, holding his hands in what he hoped looked like a peaceful gesture, "What—who—how did you do that?"

"How did I do that?" the boy echoed, quickly recovering from his panic. "Do what? Get into your room? Your window was unlocked."

"No," said Near impatiently, "how did you…." he trailed off, making a sweeping motion from the floor to the window with one hand. Had he just imagined it?

"Oh," said the boy, seeming to be relaxing a little, turning into the room. "Flying? That's easy. All you need is some sugardust and a happy thought."

A skeptical expression traced itself onto Near's young features. "Sugardust," he said flatly. He must have imagined it. Either that or he was having a very strange dream. Near felt rather let down, irritated by the brief irrational fantasy that had flitted through his mind of soaring through the air like one of his robots.

"Yes," said the stranger distractedly, "But, you see, I've lost my cake fairy, and—"

Something clicked. "Cherry?" asked Near, thinking that this person might be a little unbalanced.

"Yes," he said, looking around as though a cake fairy would suddenly manifest itself from underneath a pile of Legos or a Gundam.

"And…who are you?"

"Oh, you can call me Pan," the boy said, clearly still not paying much attention to the younger boy.

"Ok…Pan… I'm Near…maybe I could help you find your…cake fairy." Near wanted very much to have more time to interrogate this bizarre person, and to further investigate that strange illusion he had just pulled off.

_And maybe, just maybe it had been real…_

"Would you really?" Pan looked at him directly for the first time, and his mouth quirked into a sweet smile.

"Sure…why don't we try out here, I can't say I've seen a …cake fairy in my room."

"Good idea," said Pan, picking his way across the room. "Thanks!"

"Where did you come from anyway?" Near whispered as they padded down the hall. "No one's ever flown in my window looking for cake fairies before."

"Why, Neverland, of course."

"…I see."

.oOo.

Matt stumbled groggily back from the bathroom to his bedroom, one hand trailing on the wall to keep him walking straight in the dark. He was rather less than half awake and thinking of nothing but the soft warmth of his bed, until a pale gold light flickering dimly on the wall of an adjoining hallway caught his half-closed eyes.

He halted abruptly, pushing his goggles into his hair and squinting. The light was growing stronger as whatever was causing it came nearer. There were no footsteps, but he could faintly hear an odd, almost jingling sort of noise.

_What…?  
_

Suddenly awake, Matt slid silently along the wall, poising at the edge of the thick darkness, and waited.

"Mello!"

Mello jerked awake as Matt jumped onto his legs.

"Matt?! What the hell!" He shoved Matt's arms away as his friend thrust some sort of light in his face, flipping over and yanking the covers over his head. "I'm sleeping, you ass!"

"Stop sleeping and look at this!" Matt shifted so he wasn't sitting on the blonde, which made Mello slightly less inclined to simply knock his head off and go back to sleep, and prodded him in the back with his elbow. "Come on, before it escapes, I don't know how much longer I can hang onto it, it's struggling pretty hard—"

One baleful eye poked above the sheets. "Escapes?" Mello repeated, the one word penetrating his sleep-fogged mind. Looking suddenly appalled, he sat up a little. "Shit, Matt, you better not have brought some crazy kind of bug or something into my room—"

"I don't think it's a bug, I don't know what the hell it is. Just _look_ at it, Mel!"

Suspiciously, Mello lifted his head enough to peer at Matt's clenched hands. _This had better to be worth it_, he thought grouchily. If not he was going to chuck Matt's DS out the window the first chance he got for being such a jerk.

The…thing…that writhed against Matt's white-knuckled grip was glowing brightly, but it wasn't any sort of bug Mello had ever seen either in person or in pictures. He sat up and looked closer, blue eyes widening. Tiny feet kicked desperately, and poking up above Matt's fist a tiny arm was pounding the boy's fingers and a tiny head glared up at them, mouth open and yelling in a tiny voice what was clearly a rant of fury and pain.

"Holy shit, Matt, you're hurting it! Don't hold so tight!" He grabbed at Matt's wrist, and the redhead, startled, dropped the…it. Instead of falling, though, the thing shot into the air and flitted about the ceiling, scolding them in an unintelligible buzz.

"What the hell is that thing?" Mello demanded, getting up into a crouch and warily eyeing the thing skitter around his room.

"I told you, I don't know what it is!" Matt said, staring at his hands. "Jeez, look at my hands! It got some kind of glittery crap all over me." He scrubbed vigorously at his palms, but the shimmery gold dust stuck fast.

"You better not get any of that stuff on my bed…you reckon it could be one of Near's stupid weird toys?" Mello said, not taking his eyes from the thing.

Suddenly they heard voices in the hall. "Oh, listen there! Come on!"

"Wait! Pan, that's Mello's—"

A very strange boy strutted into the room, Near peeking around the doorway behind him.

"Near!" Mello said accusingly, "I knew you had something to do with this—"

"I don't—" Near began, and then he noticed the flying thing. His jaw dropped comically. "What—"

"Cherry!" cried the stranger joyfully, "Come on down, it's ok!"

"Who the heck are you? Is this a new kid, Near?" Matt asked, eyeing the feathers in the boy's hair.

Near stepped cautiously into Mello's room—he had never had occasion to come in, but dying to examine that glowing—thing—he took Matt's question as an invitation. "Ah—this is Pan—what on earth is that?"

"How do you know him?" asked Mello suspiciously as Matt answered, "We don't really know, I just caught it in the hall."

The thing was standing in Pan's palm, gesticulating and chattering angrily. His head was bent as he listened, then he threw it back and laughed, which served to further irritate the squeaking thing.

"Pan," said Near, ignoring Mello and staring at the furious creature, "Is that…is that the cake fairy?"

Mello burst into laughter and Matt looked at Near as though he had suddenly declared a fervent belief in Santa Clause.

"Yes," said Pan, turning to him, oblivious to the other boys' reactions. "Would you like to meet her?"

Near stepped forward, his face a study in terror and suppressed eagerness. "Is this some sort of joke?" asked Mello, recovering himself. "Near, I didn't think you had it in you. Who is this bloke, really?" Matt, however, was watching Near with surprise—the younger boy was acting very strangely, he thought. And although fairies obviously weren't real, that thing, whatever it was, certainly was real…and it certainly looked like a fairy from a book…and it certainly hadn't felt like metal or plastic in his hands, warm and struggling and clearly afraid.

Pan held the fairy out gently, and Near leaned forward hesitantly and examined it. The little creature had calmed somewhat, one hand resting easily on Pan's thumb and looking up at him. It was a tiny little girl, with soft golden-pale wings like a moth's and hair as wild as Pan's. She waved shyly up at him with a twig-thin arm. Near struggled to analyze the situation scientifically, but Cherry was so obviously real when she shouldn't be and—

"Hello," he breathed, enchanted.

"Near," said Matt, feeling a tremor of adrenaline, "are you serious? A fairy? Where did this guy come from?"

"Neverland," Pan told him cheerfully.

Near looked at Matt, his dark eyes abnormally wide. "He flew in my window," he said dazedly.

"Now look here," barked Mello. Everyone looked at the blonde, who was starting to get seriously angry at being ignored for so long. "What the hell is going on?" he demanded. "Why am I being woken up at this time of night, what the hell is that thing, who the hell are you, and why the hell is Near in my room?!"

"You're awfully cranky," Pan observed.

"The hell I am!"

"Look, chill out, man," Matt said. Now he was uncertain too, but he was starting to look at the situation rationally. "You know it's very unlikely that Near cooked this whole thing up as a prank just to wake you up, and I know I'm not in on anything, and Near looks like someone just whacked him with a lead pipe."

Mello cooled down about half a degree. "Ok then, you," he said through gritted teeth, pointing at Pan, "Who are you and what are you doing here?"

Pan looked wickedly amused by Mello's anger. "I'm Pan, and I came from Neverland because Cherry here got lost and I came looking for her." He peered curiously at the blonde. "And who are you?"

"Ah, this is Mello and I'm Matt," Matt said quickly as Mello scowled and opened his mouth. "And…er…did you say that's a fairy you've got there?"

"A cake fairy," he clarified.

"And how did you say you got here from 'Neverland'?" Near asked, cutting off Mello's scornful retort. If fairies were real, perhaps he really _had_ flown.

"I flew, of course," Pan laughed. "That's the fastest way."

Mello snorted. "Oh, come on now," he snapped. "This is just ridiculous! Near, I don't know what the hell you're playing at, or if you really do want to believe all this crap or what, but I don't have to stay awake for this. _Everyone_, get the hell out of my room, and—"

Near's face was expressionless. _Maybe I did simply want to believe_ _it_, he thought, and his heart sank.

"Wait a second," said Matt, as Pan headed cheerfully for the window. "If you can fly, that's easy to prove."

"Ok then," Pan said, and jumped lightly into the air. And stayed there. He grinned in obvious delight at their reactions.

Matt gaped, pointing needlessly for Mello's benefit, and Mello sat bolt upright. "How're you doing that?!"

Something like fireworks were going off in Near's stomach. "Sugardust," he whispered, staring at Matt's sparkling fingers. He looked abruptly at Pan. "So then—there really is a Neverland? Where is it?"

"Second star to the right," Pan said, pointing out the window. Cherry flitted to his shoulder as he unlatched the window and shoved it open.

It sounded insane. But fairies were real and little boys could fly, and there was only one way to know for sure, and that was direct observation. "Can I come?"

"You're cracked," Mello told him disdainfully, but his voice wavered and he was staring at Pan. "Sure, go ahead and take me too. We'll take a little field trip, then I can laugh at you when it all turns out to be a bunch of bullshit!"

"You can all come if you want," Pan said, looking back from the window. Something impish glinted in his black eyes, and Cherry's wings twitched. "Come on then, I don't want to hang around all night."

Near shuffled apprehensively to the window, and Mello, heaving an exasperated sigh, threw himself out of bed and stomped after him. Matt, not wanting to be left out, joined them warily.

"Ok, first you need some sugardust—Matt, it looks like you've got plenty already—Cherry, if you would?"

The cake fairy buzzed into the air, shooting Matt a dirty look as she flew by him, and shook out her wings over Mello and Near. Near examined the glittering dust curiously as it stuck to his sleeves and hair, but Mello just rolled his eyes impatiently. "Come on, get on with it."

"Alright then, I'll take your hands—" he grabbed Near's hand on one side and Matt's on the other, and Mello grudgingly took Matt's other gold-dusted hand. And then, dragging the boys after him, he sprang out the window.

The night was clear and sharply cool, the breeze clean and startling on their faces. Near gasped as he watched the yard and gate of Wammy's rush by beneath them. As the road rapidly shrank to a narrow ribbon and the lights of the nearest town twinkled in the dim shadows of the moon-washed hills, he suddenly became horribly, viscerally aware that there was literally nothing between him and the increasingly distant ground. He clutched Pan's hand in a death grip, too breathless to scream, too frozen to struggle. The image of their small bodies crunching and splattering on the road below made his bones twinge. Near was soaring, all right—and it was the most terrifying thing he had ever experienced.

"Don't look down if you're nervous!" Pan called out rather belatedly.

Matt didn't have words to describe how amazing it felt—epic just didn't cover it. He spread his arms wide and gloried in the feel of the wind in his hair, hoping he wouldn't wake up from this bizarre and realistic dream any time soon.

Mello wasn't sure how he felt. Caught between disbelief and panic, he was left in a sort of stunned state, starting to wonder if he had gotten himself into far more than he had bargained for. As they climbed higher and higher, the strange feeling of distance wrapped itself tightly around him, until the darkness that came over him wasn't night anymore.

Suddenly he became aware of the sound of birds and rustling water in the blackness, and the clean scents of soil and leaves and something sweet he didn't recognize. The next thing he noticed was that the cold night breeze was gone, and he was lying on what felt like a thick mat of warm moss.

"Whoa," he heard Matt say beside him, and he opened his eyes. Flickers of bright blue sky mirrored them from behind lush, softly waving branches.


	2. Treasure

**AN: ** This turned out so much longer than I meant it to! O.O I don't mean to beg for comments, but if you have an opinion on pacing and whatnot let me know...I'm not used to dealing with chapters, and I just sort of divided my rough plot outline into what I thought made sense as chunks without much regard to relative length.

Chapter 2: Treasure.

Neverland was a tropical island paradise. Pan and his Lost Boys lived happily in the jungle, surviving easily off of the fish they caught in a stream that formed the backbone of their various hidey-holes and camps, and fruit that could simply be picked off the trees. The sweet exotic air, flavored by a light breeze off the sea, was unlike anything they had ever breathed in England. The island was an explosion of green, with huge vine-drizzled trees that were perfect for climbing, broad lacy ferns to hide amongst, and a riot of fanciful flowers in every shape and color imaginable.

Matt was pretty sure he was allergic to every single one of them.

Resisting the urge to pull off his goggles and rub at his itching eyes, he sniffed miserably and tried to smile in what could be construed as a friendly way as Pan introduced them to his friends. The strange flying boy was eating a piece of mango that he had seemingly pulled from thin air as he spoke.

"These are the Lost Boys," Pan said. "This here's Brown—" a large, round-faced boy with dark curls, "Turtle—" a sandy-haired, wiry boy, "and this is Cinder." The last was a skinny girl with long black braids and crossed arms.

"How can you be a Lost Boy? You're a girl," Mello pointed out. He still hadn't quite made up his mind whether this were a dream or not, but if it was (he hoped so) it sure was a stupid one. Cherry seemed to have taken a liking to him, and was sitting on his shoulder. Mello had considered shrugging her off so that the unnervingly solid weight of the fairy would no longer be evidence of the reality of Neverland, but was irrationally comforted by the fact that at least he was getting along with someone in this bizarre place.

"So? Tougher than you," the Lost Girl said with a scowl.

"And these are Mello, Matt, and Near," Pan went on, pointing them out in turn with the mango piece. "They're going to be joining us!" He grinned mischievously. "Welcome to our little family."

"Hiya!" said Turtle enthusiastically, bouncing on the balls of his bare feet, and Brown gave them a lazy smile.

"Whoa, hang on now," started Mello, "we have no intention of staying—"

Cherry buzzed agitatedly.

"Mello!" Near muttered. "You said you wanted to come, you can't just back out."

"Well, I didn't know then how stupid—"

"They'll be joining us for a little while," Pan interrupted smoothly, flashing a grin at Near, who looked away uncomfortably as Mello glared at him.

Cinder was obviously offended and resentful and Turtle was beginning to look a little scornful. Matt, noting their calloused hands and obvious ease out here in the jungle, didn't think that alienating them right off the bat seemed to be a very good survival strategy. "Thanks for having us," he said, rubbing at his nose (it was beginning to feel a little raw). "So, you live out here by yourselves?" Matt hoped rather emptily that there was actually some nice little beach house or condo with air conditioning and a computer that they actually lived in, and that they were just really into playing outside.

Turtle laughed, a high-pitched whoop that grated on Mello's ears. "Sure we do," said Pan easily, taking a bite of mango. "We do whatever we like, wherever we like."

Reflecting on the pile of macroeconomics homework he had left on his desk at Wammy's, Matt had to admit that didn't sound so bad, although he would have preferred doing whatever he liked in front of a computer screen.

"Wait, so, what you're saying is," Mello said disbelievingly, "you just sit out here and play all day?" That was fine for some little kid like Near (who, he noticed angrily, didn't look at all ruffled by the situation—he looked _intrigued_, the little twerp!) He never seemed to do much but sit around and play elaborate games of pretend with his Legos all the time and still managed to beat Mello on every test. But Mello had more serious things to worry about. Things such as becoming the best detective in history, for instance.

"We don't '_just_ play'," retorted Cinder, eyes flashing. "We fight pirates!"

"And go swimming," Brown volunteered cheerfully.

"And—" practically wriggling with excitement, Turtle whipped a folded bit of tattered parchment from inside his ragged shirt, "We hunt for treasure!"

Pan crowed with delight. "You got it!"

"Sure did," Cinder said smugly. "They never saw us coming. Or leaving."

"What is it?" asked Near.

"Look," said Pan, snatching the parchment from Turtle's hands, crouching and spreading it out on the mossy ground. The boys (and girl) all squatted around it to see except Mello, who stayed standing, peering with an expression of disdain over Matt's shoulder with his arms folded. To his annoyance, Cherry fluttered down to Pan's shoulder so that she could see too. It was a wrinkled, yellowing map of a vaguely S-shaped island, with a long thin curve of land embracing a large lagoon, and a fat hook around a smaller grotto forming the bottom curve. Fanciful illustrations and labels in curly script filled in the wavy-lined oceans around the isle.

"A map of Neverland?" Near settled into his familiar position, curling a lock of hair around one finger as he examined it curiously.

"Not just any map," Turtle corrected gleefully. "A treasure map!"

"And not just any treasure map. Captain Kira's own treasure map," said Pan, his eyes glittering through his hair.

"Captain of the pirates," Brown clarified, seeing Near and Matt's blank stares.

"See here," Pan said, "we're right here." He licked the mango juice off his fingers and pointed to the broad southern hook, with was garlanded with the label _'Lost Boys'_. "Captain Kira docks his ship here—" he moved his sticky finger to a spot on the shore halfway up the lagoon, "—and the treasure should be—"

"Where that big black **X** is?" said Mello, cocking a brow. Cinder shot him a dirty look.

"Yes," Pan said with an intense light in his eyes, ignoring Mello's snide tone. His finger came to rest on a spot at the southern edge of the lagoon, about halfway between the Lost Boys and the pirate ship, where a bold **X** slashed the shoreline.

Near was only half listening, intently examining the rest of the map. "What's that?" he asked, placing a slender finger on a humped figure that twined through the waves in the middle of the lagoon.

"Oh, that's just Ryuk," Cinder said dismissively.

"Sea monster," Pan said, grinning at Near's startled expression and ripping a large bite from his fruit.

Matt leaned in, interested despite his physical misery. "Monsters?" Maybe this would be interesting after all….

"Hasn't been sighted recently," Brown remarked.

"Ah, he won't ever be away long," said Pan slyly. "Wouldn't want to be too far from his dear friend Captain Kira."

The Lost Boys smirked, and Turtle laughed loudly. Mello winced. Near looked from one to another. "Why's that?"

Turtle fidgeted restlessly. "All this talking is boring," he moaned, "Come on, let's go have some fun!"

"Yeah, let's go find us some treasure!" said Cinder, jumping up excitedly. Folding the map and sticking it in his shirt, Pan got to his feet, chucking the clean mango pit over his shoulder.

"Yes! If we get going now we can get there and back before dark," he said, grinning. Cherry leapt into the air and flew dizzily around their heads, just as impatient as the Lost Boys.

Matt and Near joined them, Near pulling off his socks, folding them up, and sticking them in one pocket. He didn't want to get them too dirty if they were going to be walking through the jungle all day. "This way!" cried Pan, and they started off in the direction he indicated.

"Wait a minute!" Mello said, grabbing Matt's arm.

"What?" The redhead looked at his friend quizzically.

"You aren't seriously going along with this crap, are you?" he asked incredulously, waving after the Lost Boys disappearing into the trees, Near's white form bobbing along behind them. He was easily a head shorter even than Turtle. "It's bad enough that Near's gone off his block with all this fairy tale shit, but you too?"

"I—" Matt ruffled his hair awkwardly, then sneezed. "Ugh. Doing something's better than just sitting here inhaling pollen. Besides, we might see a sea monster…that'd be pretty sweet."

"You _hate_ the outdoors. You won't even go in the _yard_ at home. How can you be having fun with this stupid kid stuff?"

Matt sighed and swiped at his nose again. "Look, Mel, if we don't hurry up we'll lose them. And I don't know about you, but I don't know how to just fly back to Wammy's. So I'm going with Pan." He pulled out of Mello's grasp and hurried after the other kids.

Speechless, Mello gaped after him for a moment. "Shit, I'm the only sane one around here," he snapped to Cherry, who hovered, waiting for him. Hopping and pulling his own socks off, he shoved them angrily into his pocket so they wouldn't hinder him and walked with deliberate slowness after them—Cherry wouldn't let him get lost.

He really needed some chocolate.

.oOo.

"So," panted Near, trying to keep up with the enthusiastic pace of the Lost Boys, "what kind of treasure is this, exactly?"

"Buried treasure," said Turtle excitedly, scrambling over a large fallen log.

"Right, but—" Near paused to heave his tiny body up onto the log, turn around on it sitting, and slide down the other side and stumbling after the sandy-haired boy, "But what does it consist of?"

"Well how should I know, we haven't found it yet!"

"But—if you don't know what it is, why do you want to find it?"

"How else are we supposed to find out what the treasure is?" Turtle asked, looking at Near as though he were an idiot.

Near was pretty sure there was some kind of logical inconsistency here, but it was much more difficult to figure out what that was exactly when he was jogging breathless and barefoot through the jungle than sitting calmly stacking cards. Maybe he should just concentrate on staying on his feet, he thought as he tripped over a twisted tree root and nearly went sprawling. Somehow this didn't seem as fun yet as a fairy tale ought to, but he ignored that thought and decided it would get better.

Matt had hoped that the activity would distract him from his allergies, but the quick pace seemed to only be compounding his suffering. As the afternoon grew hotter, his goggles rubbed uncomfortably on his sweaty skin, but he wasn't about to take them off and expose his eyes to the glare of the sun. He was beginning to really remember why he almost never went outside. The trees became more scattered as they approached the coast, and he could literally feel his skin (naturally fair anyway, and unnaturally white due to his troglodytish lifestyle) toasting under the blazing tropical sun.

Near was obviously struggling, his cheeks flushed from the unaccustomed exertion and baggy sleeves ripped from catching on branches, but he slogged on determinedly. If Near could keep up, Matt told himself, he could too. He refused to admit to himself that in actuality he was just as unused to exercise as the younger boy. If he believed that the pale prodigy was somehow weaker in this situation it was easier for himself to go on.

He heard Cinder laughing about something Pan had said, and his frustrated sigh was interrupted by an explosive sneeze. Where the heck were these kids getting all this energy? There must be something in the fruit on this island. Or caffeine trees that he had yet to be introduced to.

Ahead of him, Near yelped as he stumbled in a rabbit hole or something and fell to his hands and knees. Turtle turned back and helped him back to his feet, looking impatient.

Sea monsters, Matt told himself firmly, making sure to step around the hole. He wasn't going to let Near see sea monsters and miss out himself.

Around midafternoon they finally reached the beach. Near's breath caught—whether from the stunning beauty of the aquamarine expanse of the lagoon, embraced by the emerald arms of the island, or simply from the brisk pace of their hike, he couldn't say. He stopped, wiggling his bare toes in the pristine sand, and spread his arms into the sea breeze. If they ever got back to Wammy's, he thought, his Gundam army would definitely have to go to the beach. Imagining them sailing up onto the sand in mechanized pirate ships and sparring on the sand with oversized beach umbrellas, he suddenly laughed.

"You're such a kid," Matt panted, coming up behind him. He didn't sound like he was trying to be mean, but Near dropped his arms and flushed, embarrassed. Matt's shoulders, nose, and cheeks were already a flaming red, he noticed.

That was going to hurt later.

"Come on!" Turtle yelled at them. Pan, Brown, and Cinder were already clumped around a spot near the grassline of the beach, examining the map.

Matt and Near strolled slowly over the hot sand toward the group, Near still looking around. "Look," he said suddenly, pointing. "You can see the pirate ship from here!"

"Oh, wow!"

They stared, still walking, at the sight. The gleaming ship nestled against the coast a few miles up the shoreline. Its sails were tied up, but gold and scarlet banners fluttered gaily in the wind from all three masts, and a large black flag with a red-eyed skull emblazoned across it claimed the sky as Captain Kira's.

"Won't the pirates see us?" Near asked Pan as they came up to the other children.

"We'll see them coming far before it'll be a problem. Never mind them! We dig here," Pan said, brandishing the map triumphantly and stamping a spot on the sand. Eagerly the Lost Boys fell to, and Matt and Near joined them, scooping away at the sand with their hands.

Many enthusiastic hands made for quick work. At first the dry white sand kept sliding into the hole, but a few feet down it became damper and firmer and held its shape. Despite the seeming pointlessness of all this effort, Near found himself becoming more and more curious. What would they find in the chest? Gold? Humongous jewels? Something completely outside of his imagination? Perhaps he had been listening to too many stories from the dorm mother, but he couldn't help but be excited. Perhaps the sun was getting to him. Even Turtle's annoyed orders to shovel faster ceased to frustrate him.

Matt could feel the blazing sun beating down on the back of his neck, but all the same he was vaguely intrigued. The pirate ship lurking across the lagoon somehow made the whole venture a lot more exciting, more dangerous, as if they were actually doing something adventurous and ran the risk of getting caught. The proud banners and the flickering red eyes of the flag also made the idea of pirate treasure seem much more exotic, and he started glancing up at the ship whenever he began to feel tired.

"Hey! They're opening up the sails!" he observed, just as Cinder cried, "I felt something hard!"

Near, Pan, and Brown looked up at the ship as Turtle and Cinder scraped away excitedly at something smooth at the bottom of the hole. Pan stood abruptly, pulling a tarnished brass telescope out of his shirt and putting it to his eye. "Where on earth is he going?" he wondered out loud, and Turtle and Cinder looked up too.

They all sat on the sand, watching the pirates sail out into the lagoon. "They're not coming this way," said Matt, frowning and shading his goggled eyes as he peered across the sun-streaked water.

"No," Pan agreed. "It almost looks like he's heading for the shallower water at the north end—oh!" Scanning the lagoon, he suddenly pointed, grinning fiendishly. "Ahh…I see now! Look!"

There, at the mouth of the lagoon, something dark and serpentine wove through the shining water.

"He's back!" Pan's eyes glittered.

"What are you all gaping at?" Mello asked crabbily, catching them unawares as he shambled up behind them. Everyone but Pan whipped around; the black-haired boy ignored him, keeping his telescope trained on the lagoon. The blonde's black sleeves were rolled up, his sweaty face pink both from the walk and from a developing sunburn. Cherry rode lazily on his shoulder, looking just as cheerful and relaxed as he looked annoyed.

"You sure took your time," commented Cinder, matching his scowl.

"Oh right, I forgot we were in such a hurry to play games," Mello retorted, flicking his damp hair off his forehead. Matt felt a little sorry for his friend despite his crankiness; those black pajamas were probably soaking up the sun and roasting him alive.

"Check it out, Mel, there really is a sea monster!" Matt said, hoping to cheer him up a little. The blonde looked cynically out at the rippling form. "Oh goodie," he said, his voice dripping sarcasm. "A giant water snake."

"What do you think?" Pan was asking Brown.

"Well," he said in a slow, thoughtful voice. "We might do better to watch from a better distance. I still say Ryuk can't be trusted."

Pan lowered the telescope and bit his thumb. "Can he get up to the shore?" Near asked him, squinting at the black form wriggling closer to their side of the lagoon.

"If he was so inclined, yeah, I reckon maybe he could," said Pan. "He has no real reason to attack us, but he's…fickle. You never really know what he's gonna do." He chewed on his thumbnail for a moment, looking annoyed. "Cover the treasure back up," he said finally, closing the telescope and sticking it back in his shirt.

"What?" wailed Turtle. "But we're so close to getting the treasure!"

"We can come back for it whenever we want, now that we know for sure it's here," Brown said soothingly.

"What! You mean we walked all the way here for nothing?" Mello demanded. "You're going back now?"

"Ok, Pan," Cinder said, smirking deliberately at Mello. Mello wondered if rules about not hitting girls applied if the girl claimed to be a lost boy.

.oOo.

It was somewhat cooler by the time they got back, and the sun was hanging low and honey-gold in the sky. Pan and the fairy had vanished off to somewhere or other, which Brown had assured them was pretty typical. "Probably off spying on Captain Kira again," he had said in his calm, slow way. Now he was sprawled on the ground in the little clearing where they were hanging out, playing some sort of games involving rocks, sticks, and a ring drawn in the dirt with Turtle. Matt was lounging and Mello was pacing on a log at the edge of the clearing watching Cinder and Near. The aggressive little girl had decided to teach Near to shoot arrows. Mello was finding some comfort and Matt amusement in the utter hopelessness of the task she had taken on.

"Not like that," Cinder snapped, looking like she wanted to snatch the bow away from Near just so that it would be used properly. "Pull it like you mean business!"

Near was already pulling as hard as he could, but he wasn't about to say so. Muscles in his arms, chest, and shoulders that he hadn't even realized he had were aching. Breathing controlledly, he sighted along the arrow's shaft and braced his sore feet, trying to imagine that he had the strong metal arms of one of his robots. The bowstring moved a hair's width back before he lost his grip on it. The shaft drew a lazy arch that went about six feet before landing to the ground with a squelch, the dye in the padded end splattering over a tree root.

At least there was one good thing about this Neverland, Mello thought, and that was that for once, his perfect rival was out of his element.

Never mind that Mello was, too. That was beside the point.

"Why even go in the first place?" Mello muttered, as Near patiently chose another dye arrow to try again. "What's the point of buried treasure? If it's worth that much why bury it and then leave a map with a great bloody **X** showing where it is lying around? If it's anything worth having it should be locked up in a vault on his ship!"

Matt shrugged, wincing as he poked experimentally at his sunburn. Now that they were in the shade again he was almost cheerful. "Why collect coins on Mario?"

"You are _not_ comparing this stupid place to a video game."

"Ok then, why write essays about inertia and stay up all night graphing derivatives?"

"That's completely different!" Mello snapped, gesturing irritably. "That's actually learning and accomplishing something useful! Anyhow, it might not be fun all the time, but if we didn't do it we'd slip in the rankings."

Matt rolled his eyes and stifled a chuckle when Near dropped an arrow, splashing bright green dye on the hem of his pajamas. "Come on, Mel. We're the top three. What's going to happen? Near can't beat you _more_—he's already got you pretty beat at Wammy's, and he's here all wrapped up in swinging around the jungle anyhow. Obviously I'm not going to get ahead in physics while we're here and knock you down the ladder. What, is Linda or someone going to sneak up and beat all your scores if you're gone for a couple days? It won't hurt to take a short vacation. So Roger'll freak a bit. So what? It's probably good for him to flip his wig once in a while. Keeps him on his toes."

Mello scowled but didn't answer. He could really use some chocolate right about now. Watching Near, he noticed that the younger boy was perversely growing more and more calm and determined-looking the more critical Cinder became with his pitiful attempts.

"Hey, nice shot there, Cottonball," he called spitefully as another arrow fell short.

"Shut up, Mello," Cinder tossed carelessly over her shoulder, but Near looked up at them suddenly as though he hadn't really realized they were watching. His cheeks turned rather pink, and Mello noticed with irritation that somehow the pale boy didn't seem to have gotten much of a sunburn, but instead was faintly tanned.

"How is that even possible?" he grumbled. "He's practically an albino and he's hasn't burned at all." He rubbed at his nose, which had begun to peel painfully.

"Albinos have pink eyes," Matt pointed out. "And besides, I doubt that white is his natural hair color. He's eight, for heaven's sake. People don't go grey as toddlers." The redhead sneezed again and plucked up some blades of grass, braiding them together lazily. "Think I'm about ready for a nap."

"Ugh." Mello flung himself down on the ground. "This is so boring." Broodingly, he watched Near send another arrow plopping pathetically to the ground. "Oh come on, you wuss. A five-year-old could shoot better than you," he groaned. Seeing Near fail was nice and all but this was getting ridiculous.

Near lowered the loaded bow to aim at the ground and narrowed his eyes at Mello. "I don't see you trying to do better," he said a little defensively.

"Will you shut up?" Cinder snapped at Mello. "He sucks bad enough without you distracting him. How the heck am I supposed to teach him anything at this rate?"

Near looked embarrassed.

"Here, let me try," Mello said, ignoring Cinder and taking up Near's challenge. He strode into the center of the clearing and Near reluctantly handed him the bow and arrow, his hand moving to twirl his hair as soon as he relinquished them.

Taking aim at a tree, Mello sighted and let the arrow fly. It didn't hit dead on, but it left a large purple stain on the side of the trunk. He shoved the bow back at Near, smirking. The younger boy was expressionless. Mello felt a stab of frustration. Somehow beating Near wasn't as satisfying as he always hoped it would be when it was a stupid competition anyway, and Near didn't even care that he had lost.

"Heh," said Cinder, eyeing the dye mark critically, "Not too bad for a beginner."

"Nice shot," Near murmured. He looked down at the bow in his hands.

"You bet it was," Mello said, returning to his log.

"Maybe we can work more on it later...it's getting kind of dark anyway," he heard Near telling Cinder behind him.

"Pan!" Turtle cried.

The wild-haired boy strode into the clearing with Cherry riding in his tufty hair, inexplicably carrying a cake heaped with fruit.

Matt lifted his goggles briefly and stared. "Where on earth did you get that?"

"Don't got a cake fairy for nothing," Pan said breezily. "How's about a bonfire tonight, boys? Captain Kira's gonna have a sleepless night, playing tag with Ryuk—let's celebrate!" He grinned wickedly.

.oOo.

"So tell us about yourselves," Pan said lazily. Stuffed with cake and strawberries, the children sprawled on the ground or on logs, poking at the fire or holding fern leaves in it to watch the delicate fronds turn to blazing lace. "Your house was so huge—your parents really rich or something?"

Matt glanced up at him uncomfortably, then looked sidelong at Mello. "It's not our house, it's an orphanage," said Near, twirling his hair.

"Oh, sorry," he said, not sounding sorry at all. "Still though, that was pretty nice for an orphanage. You had so many toys, I thought I would die tripping on them all."

"Wammy's isn't just any orphanage," Mello said proudly. "It's an institute for the brightest orphans from around the world, so that they can compete to succeed the world's best detective."

"Right, what, so you're really smart then?" Cinder muttered. Mello ignored her, wondering if the cake fairy ever made chocolate cake.

"Wow," said Turtle, looking impressed. "So you all wanna grow up to be detectives, then? What do you do at the school? Do you get to investigate murderers and look for clues and stuff?"

"Well, we don't yet," said Near, "we're studying to do that."

"So like, what do you actually do then?" asked Cinder.

"Study important stuff," said Mello with a hint of arrogance. "Calculus…computer programming…forensic analysis…."

The Lost Boys looked revolted. "You mean they make you do math and stuff all the time?" said Pan. "Do they ever let you play?"

"Well, yeah," said Matt. "A lot of time we're left to our own devices."

"So you get to do fun stuff then?"

"Well…" Matt fumbled. "We play games and stuff…but mostly it's for competition and to sharpen our skills, not really just for fun like treasure hunting…."

"It sounds like it sucks," Cinder commented.

"Who's this so-famous detective you want to succeed so badly?" Pan asked languidly.

"He goes by L," said Mello, eyes shining. "He's the best there is."

"What's he like?" Pan wondered.

"Well…." Mello paused. "We haven't actually met him, per se…."

"He's very secretive about his identity," Near interjected.

"Aha…I see…so then," said Pan, his eyes glinting in the firelight, "that must mean you three are all competing against each other to succeed this person you don't know. You are rivals, in other words."

"Yes, that's right," Mello said, and Near frowned, gazing into the dancing fire.

"Heh." For some reason Pan seemed amused by this. "No wonder you guys fight so much. Haha."

"Why is that funny?" Mello snapped.

Pan shrugged, and began to unpeel an orange he had mysteriously produced. "I dunno, I just assumed at first you were brothers or something. It makes sense though, you don't look anything alike."

Mello looked revolted. "I am in no way related to _that _fluffball," he asserted, pointing at Near. The younger boy glanced up at him through his bangs, then returned his gaze to the fire.

"You guys get in some bad fight or something?" Cinder asked, looking amused.

"Well—" Mello didn't really want to say that Near was always beating him and that he was resentful, and that Near's blithe disdain for and complete ignorance of his efforts to compete with him stung him even more. These kids just couldn't understand the competition at Wammy's, he though angrily to himself. He looked to Matt for help, but the redhead looked half asleep, his goggles pushed into his hair (he had an interesting burn line around his eyes) and his eyes nearly closed, narrow slits gleaming in the light of the fire. Near didn't seem about to volunteer either.

"I'm tired," the blonde said finally after a moment of awkward silence.

"Yeah, me too," Brown said sleepily.

"Going to bed isn't such a bad idea—we've got a big day tomorrow, after all," said Pan brightly.

"What's going on tomorrow?" Matt asked.

"Why, we have to go back and get that treasure, of course."

Mello groaned.

Everyone roused, kicking dirt over the glowing embers and following Brown into the dark at the edge of the clearing. The Lost Boys, as it turned out, had permanent bases in addition to their makeshift camps. Not far from the clearing, by the bank of the stream, a large treehouse sprawled through three adjacent trees, barely visible in the darkness. Pan flew up and let the ladder down for them, Cherry lighting their way.

As he was climbing, Matt almost ran into Near, who had suddenly frozen on the ladder. "What's wrong? Keep going, Near!"

"Maybe I'll just sleep on the ground," Near said tightly. Matt looked up. The younger boy was staring down at the ground, eyes wide.

"Can't sleep on the ground, tigers or something will eat you," said Turtle.

Near swallowed. "Has-has that happened before?"

"Of course not, stupid. We always sleep in the treehouse so we're always safe from tigers."

Near was getting very tired of being called stupid. It was not a label he was used to, and his pride was starting to smart from the battering it had been taking all day. This whole fairy tale thing was turning out to be a lot less fun than he thought it would be, and Mello certainly wasn't helping matters.

"What's wrong, Near?" the blonde sneered, poking his head out of the trap door as though the thought had summoned him. "Scared of heights?"

"No," snapped Near, forcing himself to move his hand up another rung, and then clinging there. The ground was so far away…what if he rolled right out the door in the middle of the night?

"Don't look down. You'll be just fine," came Brown's slow, soothing voice.

Near looked up. Somehow Mello's smirking face was just as unwelcome a sight as the distant jumble of tree roots and rocks, but instead of freezing him it galvanized him to prove he could do this. Clenching his jaw, he slowly climbed the rest of the ladder, one step at a time.

"Nice job, Near," Mello said seriously he got to the top. "We almost thought you would fall right off for a minute there. Better luck next time, huh?"

"You're not a very nice person," Brown observed.

Mello scowled. Why did everyone see him as the bad guy? Man, he needed chocolate.

Near levered himself up through the trapdoor, ignoring Mello and looking around. The sprawling, asymmetrical room was hung all around the edges with hammocks, with odds and ends such as hollow melon rinds, feathers, colored string, marbles, and other things less identifiable in the flickering light scattered about in piles.

Pan climbed in last, then pulled up the rope ladder behind him. Near noted with relief that he closed the trapdoor as well. He could almost pretend that this was just a normal room in a ground-level house.

There were a lot more hammocks than Lost Boys (the thought immediately popped into Matt's head that their owners must have been eaten by tigers; he chuckled and Mello gave him a dirty look), and the Wammy boys chose one each for themselves—Matt and Mello next to each other, and Near as far away from Mello as possible. Near climbed awkwardly into the hammock, a little unnerved by its swinging, but once he was on his back the fabric cocooned around him in a way that was actually rather comforting. If he just didn't move at all, perhaps he would be alright. It made him feel slightly sick to think of how he had frozen up, first flying, then on the ladder. This inexplicable fear of heights was irrational and rather unexpected, and he felt almost angry with himself for not being able to reason through it.

Tomorrow, he told himself, would be better. Building up strength took time, after all. He hadn't stacked a perfect pyramid the first time he had sat down with a deck of cards. Moving through the jungle and arrows would come to him too…he hoped. At the very least hopefully he wouldn't make as much of a fool of himself in front of Mello as he evidently had today. He wished he had a clean pair of pajamas to sleep in and tried not to think about it.

Matt had no trouble whatsoever with the hammock, except that his arms and neck felt like they were radiating back all the heat the sun had burned into them. He threw off his T-shirt to cool down, trying to move as little as possible so as not to rub his sunburn. Tomorrow he would definitely have to look into finding some way to avoid burning this much again, or he'd be blistering. Ugh.

Mello had rather less luck with his hammock. He overbalanced on his first attempt and fell sprawling on his face. The second attempt was just as successful. The Lost Boys were laughing at his antics, which only made him madder.

"Shut up," he snarled at them, on the floor for the third time.

"Here, try doing it like this," Brown said placidly, starting to demonstrate.

"I don't need your help," Mello said, pushing him roughly away. "This is stupid. Why the hell would you put hammocks in a treehouse anyway?"

"Why not?" said Turtle, curled cozily in his own hammock.

"Because it's stupid. This whole place is stupid. It makes no sense."

"If you hate it so much, why did you come?" said Cinder snappishly.

"It's his fault, him and his stupid obsession with pretending and games!" Mello blazed, pointing an accusatory finger at Near. For a split second a trick of the flickery light in the treehouse made it look to him almost as though the younger boy looked hurt, but then he turned his face away and closed his eyes to sleep. "I never wanted to come in the first place!"

There was a ringing silence as Matt stared at Mello, and the Lost Boys all looked disgusted and annoyed.

"All right then," Pan said smoothly. "Tell you what. Tomorrow morning, I'll teach you to fly by yourself, without my help. Then you can go back whenever you want."

"Why can't you just take us back yourself?" Mello demanded.

"Are you kidding? If Ryuk's back, I don't want to go wandering off—something exciting might happen while I'm gone and I don't want to miss out." The uncertain light made his now-familiar grin look even more fiendish.

"Fine then," grumbled Mello.

He finally managed to get into the hammock, and decided he hated it—stretched out with his arms and legs practically bound together, he felt like he was in a straightjacket. His forearms, face, and neck stung and itched from the sunburn, rubbing uncomfortably against the fabric of the hammock and his shirt. Listening to the snoring around him as the night wore on, he desperately wished for the hundredth time that day that he had some chocolate.


	3. Flight

Chapter 3: Flight.

Matt woke suddenly with a violent sneeze and nearly fell out of the hammock in sudden disorientation. It took him a long panicked moment to remember where he was, confronted by a riotous chorus of birds and sun-speckled wood walls instead of the concentrated quiet and generic white of Wammy's House. Looking around, he saw that Mello was hanging halfway out of his hammock with his blond hair sticking to his face, and across the room Brown was dozing peacefully. The other hammocks were empty.

Moving slowly so as not to wake the other boys, Matt got out of the hammock and put his shirt back on. His sunburn hurt a lot less this morning than he thought it would, but there was no reason to go ahead and toast the rest of himself too. He thought maybe his eyes itched less as well but perhaps that was just wishful thinking. With a last glance at Mello, he shimmied down the ladder and dropped the last couple rungs.

This was a sight he didn't mind waking up to, he admitted to himself. Maybe he would have liked playing outside better in the past if the scenery had always been so inviting. Early light filtered through the leaves, dappling everything green and pale gold, and small blue butterflies were bobbing about among the thick clusters of ferns and flowers. Through the trees sunlight glittered on the stream, and over the rustling of the water he could hear low murmurs and an occasional splash. Sticking his hands in his pockets, he strolled in that direction, thinking as he walked that it would be awesome to have a game that involved hopping around through a digital jungle capturing butterflies for ten points apiece.

The sight that greeted him was an odd one. Turtle and Near were standing in a pool of slower-moving water up to their knees, bent over almost double with their hands in the water. Cinder sat on a nearby log with her scrawny legs dangling in the stream, watching and occasionally offering a critical remark. Near had rolled up his pant legs and shirtsleeves, which made them look even baggier and more ill-fitting than ever in comparison to his slender limbs. Standing stock still, he was staring down into the water with an expression of intense concentration.

"Hey guys, whatcha doin'?" Matt greeted them, flopping down on the bank under a shady tree.

"Quiet! You'll scare the fish!" Turtle admonished him shrilly.

"Shhh, I see one," Near murmured, his lips barely moving.

There was a silver flash in the water, and Near jerked his hands out of the water, almost losing his balance and sending sparkling droplets everywhere. "I touched it!"

Cinder rolled her eyes and kicked water at him. "The point's not to poke the fish! You're supposed to grab it when it's in your hands!"

Near swiped the water off his face with one sleeve and resumed his previous posture, unbothered by her commentary.

"You're catching fish with your bare hands?" Matt said, impressed.

"Well they're trying anyway," said Cinder. "I'm a lot better at it."

"Don't see you in the water," Turtle said, fidgeting a little but not looking up.

"No point, you move around so much you always scare the fish away anyway."

Near's hands twitched. "Oh, come on," said Cinder. "That one was nowhere near you!" He continued to ignore her, his gaze so concentrated that Matt was surprised the water wasn't boiling.

"Where's Pan?" he asked, scooting up to the water's edge so he could see the fish.

"Out and about," said Turtle. "Probably spying on the pirates again."

"He does that a lot," Matt commented, poking a stick into the stream and watching the water swirl around it.

Cinder's eyes followed a large fish that was weaving lazily through the pool. "Yeah…Pan loves fighting Captain Kira."

"Why do they fight?"

Cinder looked at him like he was crazy. "Because he's a pirate. Duh."

"Oh!" Near cried, standing bolt upright as though he had been electrified. A fat silver fish slipped his clutching hands and flew into the air, wriggling wildly and landing back in the middle of the stream with a loud splash. With a comic expression of dismay and surprise, the pale boy took an automatic step back, lost his footing, and fell over backward.

He resurfaced, thrashing and spluttering. Turtle whooped with laughter and gave him a hand up. "Oh, now you've scared them all off for sure," said Cinder, peering into the water.

"They'll come back," said Brown lazily, strolling up and sitting down ponderously next to Matt.

"Hey Brown!" chirped Turtle. "You shoulda seen the one Near just almost caught."

Near waded to the shore, his white curls dripping, and sat a little despondently on the bank. Matt found himself feeling both somewhat uplifted and rather sorry for the young prodigy; after being accustomed to being the best at everything he tried, it must be a severe blow to his pride to be not getting anything right on the first try. As third place it was a little gratifying to see that Near could fail, but he didn't seem to handle it very well. "Hey, better luck next time, huh?" he said.

Near nodded, but he was still watching the water as he shook out his soaked sleeves. Silver glinted as another fish edged into the pool.

"Hey Matt, you wanna try?" Turtle called enthusiastically.

Matt eyed the sunlit water dubiously. He didn't want the Lost Boys to think he was a wimp, and he could definitely try anything that Near tried, but…. "Well…I dunno. I burn kinda easy…"

Cinder looked at him appraisingly. "You do sorta look like death on a stick."

"On a stick that was put to roast over the fire for several hours…."

They laughed, and Matt felt an odd sort of glow. Being around kids with an actual sense of humor was kind of a nice change from the unnaturally serious attitudes of the students at Wammy's.

"We can make some kind of hat or something," Cinder suggested. Hopping down from her log, she splashed to shore. "C'mon."

"What, you're going to leave me to fish by myself?" Turtle complained.

"Keep fidgeting and nobody'll catch any anyway."

Near sat with Brown and watched Turtle continue his fruitless (or fishless) endeavor as Matt and Cinder tromped into the trees to find suitable hat material. His mind wandered. Today Mello would be wanting to go back to Wammy's. Sighing inaudibly, Near wondered what Roger would do about their strange vanishing and reappearing. He felt oddly as though he had been in Neverland both for a long time and as though he had just arrived. On the one hand, the magic of Neverland was entrancing, and the freedom to just sit and absorb the sunlight and not have anything particular to worry about, or to do things than for no other reason than that they might be exciting, was great in an unnerving sort of way. On the other, he was really starting to miss clean dry clothes, and it seemed like despite his efforts to try new things, he couldn't seem to do anything right. And failure was not something that Near took well.

Which brought Near back to what he considered his biggest failure and fear so far—to get back home, they would have to fly. And to fly, they would have to be up in the air. Very high. Above the ground. The very hard and unforgiving ground. The image of gliding through the tropical blue sky was a marvelous one until he reminded himself of that one catch. He felt nauseous just thinking about it, and horribly disappointed in himself. If flying wasn't magical, he didn't know what was. But given his record thus far, and his sudden awareness of the panic that even something as small as climbing a ladder brought over him—what if the magic stopped working for him in midair? He shuddered.

There was a splash as Turtle danced with impatience, the fish moving too slowly for his liking. Multiple silver glints darted out of reach. _At least I'm not the only one who is hopeless at fishing,_ Near thought.

As though reading Near's mind, Brown suddenly commented, "You're not very good at this sort of thing, are you?"

Startled and a little offended, Near looked at him blankly, unsure of how to respond to such a blunt critique.

"Running. Shooting. Fishing," Brown elaborated. "Not very strong or fast."

Near flushed a little and looked back at the water. "It's not something I've ever done," he said a little defensively, then wondered why he felt the need to defend himself against the opinion of this boy. _Caring what other people thought of you only hurts you_, he thought, Mello popping inexplicably into his mind.

"I wasn't either at first," the older boy remarked placidly, then clambered up off the ground. "Here," he said, offering his hand. "Come on. I know something you might like better."

Nonplussed, the younger boy let Brown pull him to his feet and followed as he shambled upstream a little, plucked a few reeds, and then into the trees to snap some wicked-looking thorns as long as Near's hand off a flowering tree. Pinching off the ends of the reeds, he handed one to Near along with several of the thorns. "Pick a target," he said.

Thinking that he could see where this was going, Near pointed out a tree about ten paces away with a vine twining up its trunk. "That vine there, where it forks."

Brown stuck a thorn in his improvised blowpipe and put it to his mouth. Squinting one eye closed, he aimed, and his round cheeks puffed explosively as he suddenly blew. The thorn shot, sticking briefly in the spot Near had indicated, then dropping to the ground.

"Doesn't need to stick far in your target," Brown said unperturbedly, ambling over and picking his thorn back up. "Dip a bit of poison on there to knock 'em out. Prick 'em and it's done. You need aim and bit of practice breathing right, but strength's not an issue."

Near looked in the reed at his hand, and then up at Brown, unsure of what to say. The larger boy was dropping another dart into his improvised blowpipe. He glanced up at Near. "You want to try?"

"Er—yes." Carefully he inserted a sharp thorn into the hollow reed. He already preferred this to archery—the delicate blowpipe felt much more comfortable in his hand than the bulky bow, almost like a piece from one of his model kits. Pointing it tentatively at the same spot on the vine, he took a deep breath, pursed his lips around the reed, and let out his breath in a sharp puff.

To his delight, the dart zipped out of the pipe with a soft _fwit_. He didn't hit the vine, but it definitely hit the tree's trunk, bouncing off the tough bark and disappearing into the ferns. A smile traced its way onto his face. Maybe he wasn't hopeless after all. Some of the excitement that had pulled at him all through yesterday came bubbling back.

"That's really good for a first try," Brown said, regarding the tree lazily. "Thought you might prefer that."

Near's small hand clasped around the dark thorns. He tried to remember the last time someone had gone out of their way to be considerate to him for no obvious reason and came up utterly blank. "Thank you," he said shyly.

"Hey, no problem," the older boy said easily. "Here, come on. If you put some little feathers on them they're easier to find and you can use them a couple times before they break."

Midmorning washed golden over a peaceful tableau by the little stream. Matt, now decked out in a wide-brimmed sort of conical hat woven of palm leaves, and Cinder, who had decided that Matt's hat had turned out pretty cool and made one for herself as well, got bored with fishing after less than five minutes and were now engaged in an enthusiastic water fight in the stream. Turtle, now sitting with his feet kicking in the water and weaving his own hat, egged them on. Not far away Near and Brown lounged in focused but amiable silence, meticulously wrapping tiny fluffy feathers dropped by tropical birds onto their little darts with brightly colored thread.

This peace was abruptly broken by a muffled thump and a yelp, followed by a loud barrage of cursing.

Everyone looked up, Near and Matt with trepidation, Brown with mild interest, and Turtle and Cinder breaking into giggles. Cinder recovered quickly and took advantage of Matt's distraction to knock him over into the water.

"Hey!" he yelled, clinging to his hat with one hand, and grabbed her ankle so that she fell too, shrieking with laughter.

It was not long before Mello stomped up to the stream, his hair tousled, rubbing irritably at his shoulder. Apparently he had fallen out of the hammock again. He took one look at Matt in his new hat, grinning and dripping in the middle of the stream, and looked infuriated; then he looked down and noticed Near sitting in his rolled-up pants and damp, wrinkled shirt, holding a dart in one hand and staring up at him with one brow raised. The combination of looking like he had been living in the jungle overnight and acting as though he were in the Wammy's playroom was just too much for Mello.

"You are just too damn weird," he snarled finally, seemingly unable to articulate his thoughts any more coherently than to throw uncreative insults at his rival.

"Good morning," Near responded stiffly, looking back down and choosing another feather.

Mello ignored him and scowled at Matt, who had gotten to his feet and was offering a hand to Cinder (warily, in case she decided to pull him over). "What the hell is that ridiculous thing on your head?" he demanded.

"A hat? You could use one too, you're looking a bit pink," Matt said cheerfully, splashing back to shore.

"Whatever. Where the hell is Pan?"

The smile melted off Matt's face as he remembered that Pan would be helping them return to Wammy's today.

"I've been taking a look around," said the person in question, swooping in unexpectedly with Cherry flitting behind him. He landed in an easy crouch on a low limb in the tree Near and Brown were sitting under, then dropped to the ground. Bending down, he examined the row of feathered darts. "These look really good," he commented, then picked a bright blue feather out of their little pile and stuck it in his tufty hair without explanation. He straightened back up and grinned. "Pirates are out and about. Poor Kira's missing his map."

Cinder punched her fist in the air. "We gonna get to play with them today?" she asked eagerly.

"Maybe," Pan said as Mello interrupted, "Wait a sec, you gonna go running off again like yesterday or you gonna teach us to fly like you said you would?"

A flash of irritation crossed Pan's painted features and then was swallowed in his strange grin. "Sure I will," he said lazily. "We can start right now if you want."

"Yes, I do," said Mello shortly. Near and Matt exchanged a glance.

"Come on then," said Pan, "it's good to have some space to fall just in case, let's go back to the clearing."

Near blanched and then his face went blank. "Maybe we can make more of these later," he said quietly to Brown. The older boy gave him an encouraging look. "Sure we will," he replied in his slow, cheerful way.

Mello frowned at Near, who pointedly ignored the blonde as he clambered to his feet and shuffled after Pan. Matt waved back to the Lost Boys (Turtle's hat was finished, and he was now itching to take up Matt's place in the water fight), calling, "See you guys in a bit!"

"Matt!" Mello hissed as Matt fell into step beside him. "What are you talking about? Don't you want to go home?"

Matt shrugged a little uneasily. "Aw, I…I dunno, Mel…it's kinda nice to take a break from studying…. It can't hurt to stay a couple days, can it? Flying sure sounds like fun though."

"The whole point of learning how to fly is to get out of here!"

The redhead sighed and shoved his hands in his pockets. Too bad he couldn't get a hold of some chocolate for Mello. He bet that was half his friend's problem with Neverland—living on fruit. He didn't dare say so, though.

"Ok," said Pan once they were all gathered around, taking a large bite out of a banana he had somehow acquired during the short walk. "You've already got the fairy dust," he told them in a somewhat muffled voice. "Once you got some you don't need more. To keep up by yourself, all you need to do is concentrate on a happy thought," he spread his arms wide, "and fly! You gotta mean to, of course." He swallowed. "If you don't want to fly you're not gonna just go falling off the ground every time you're happy about something."

"A happy thought?" Mello said skeptically. "Like what?"

Pan gave him an odd look. "You know. A thought that makes you happy? A memory, maybe, or an idea, that just lifts you off the ground."

"Sounds simple enough," Matt commented. Near's expression indicated he thought it was anything but.

"So, go ahead and try it," said Pan, taking another bite of his snack and sitting against a tree to watch.

Feeling like this was the most idiotic thing he had ever done, other than trying to sleep in a hammock, Mello cast about for a happy thought. _Going back to Wammy's_, he thought finally. _Beating Near and succeeding L_. Scrunching his eyes closed so he didn't have to see Pan watching him, he concentrated on the thought as hard as he could, imagining standing invisible behind that computerized voice and knowing that he had real power and influence. He opened one eye. His feet were still planted firmly on the ground.

"It didn't work," he told Pan accusingly.

"Well you sure didn't look happy, you looked pissed off," Pan pointed out. "Your thought must not have been happy enough."

Matt had trouble at first choosing a happy memory. Beating his first computer game! was his first thought. Hacking into the Wammy server had been a pretty gleeful moment as well….

His mind latched on a very secret memory, the type that they were never allowed to talk about at Wammy's, and that many forgot from simple misuse. He had been six years old when he came to the orphanage, old enough to remember his big sister. Sometimes he wondered what had happened to her, but was never worried. She had been sweet and full of laughter; Matt was determinedly sure a young couple with a nice house must have adopted her. He remembered a long time ago, a plan she had to make cookies to surprise their parents, pushing a chair up to the counter so he could climb up and help. Too late she had discovered that they didn't have eggs, and so they had sat there on the kitchen counter eating the half-finished cookie dough instead until their mother came home and found them and the floury mess they had made of the kitchen.

"Whoa!" Matt heard Mello cry, and realized he was hovering a good couple feet off the ground.

"Wow!" he echoed gleefully. Moving his arms and legs experimentally, he found that it was actually a lot simpler than it looked. "This is great!" Matt cried, swooping up and turning in midair. "Come on, guys!"

Near watched Matt anxiously, trying to dredge his memory for one that made him happy and drawing a complete blank. He thought of his favorite toys, of card towers he had been especially proud of, but none of these thoughts was able to dispel the mental image of a helpless fall and a sudden, shattering landing. He felt torn—he _wanted_ to fly, he did. But he was afraid to try.

"It might help if you jump off of something first," Pan commented, taking another bite of the banana.

Reluctant to take advice from Pan, Mello nevertheless stomped over to a large fallen log. If he could hurry up and get this down he wouldn't have to listen to anything the boy said anymore, after all. He scrambled on top of it and poised to jump, pausing to try to find a happy thought that was more effective—although what could be happier than winning, Mello wasn't sure. This was all so stupid. Man, he needed chocolate.

…Perfect.

Mello imagined a new silver-wrapped bar of it, mentally ripping off the foil and snapping a large corner off. His mouth started watering as he held the smooth sweet taste of the candy in his mind, melting and sticky and heavenly. Then he jumped.

He could practically taste the chocolate. Mello didn't need to open his eyes to know he was flying, but he did anyway, laughing at Near's startled expression. Suddenly he felt almost relaxed—he was light as a feather, soaring through the air like a bird! _Holy shit! This is insane! But great! _And he had succeeded at it before Near. Mello flipped over in midair to Matt's cheering, feeling more alive than he ever remembered feeling before. The only thing that could make this better was an actual chocolate bar. Too bad he didn't actually have any—

Abruptly he felt himself falling. Near cried out, and Mello was almost too distracted to cling back to the memory of chocolate. He stopped, the thick grass inches from his nose. With a nervous laugh he carefully stuck out his hands, settling easily back to the ground.

Looking up, he saw that Pan was grinning lazily, Matt was clapping, and Near was staring at him with an expression of mingled alarm and what might actually have been jealousy.

Mello jumped to his feet and brushed himself off, smiling for the first time in two days. Now if Near could just hurry up and get a grip on himself, they could be home before lunchtime—back to somewhere where people took life seriously. Unfortunately, Near was now watching Matt swoop around the clearing, wincing every time he dove and showing no indication that anything running through his head at the moment remotely resembled a happy thought.

Maybe he needed some positive encouragement.

"Hey, come on, Near," Mello taunted, stepping lightly into the air again, buoyed up by his elation in the now plainly envious look his rival was giving him. "What's wrong? Not scared, are you?"

Near frowned, but seemed unable to do much more.

"Try jumping like Mello did," Pan suggested from under his tree.

Darting a nervous glance back at Pan, Near moved as though walking through water, shuffling to the log and hoisting himself atop it. Then he just stood again, staring at the ground as though it would bite him.

"Well go on," Mello said impatiently. He almost wished the pale boy would fall just because it was Near, but his desire to get this over with and go home was stronger.

Near looked up at him, and for a split second Mello felt a tiny stab of pity for the little boy, who was obviously petrified but trying to hide it. The feeling was promptly quashed when Mello reminded himself of the last few years of putting up with Near's hidden smirks, smug superiority, and cool indifference to Mello's anger and wounded pride. Let Near have the tables turned on him for once. _It was lovely to see that the boy had weaknesses that actually bothered him_, Mello reflected. Still. Seriously. _Get on with it, Near._

"Well? What are you waiting for?" he demanded, when Near showed no sign of moving.

"I…" Near wished desperately that he could just disappear—all three boys were watching him now, and Mello's tone of disgust made him feel pathetically low. "I don't think jumping is necessary…I think I'll just keep trying from the ground…."

Mello dropped to the grass, crossing his arms and scowling. "Well hurry the hell up," he complained. "Freaking pansy."

"Hey Mello! Come look at this!" Pan called.

Turning away from Near, Mello strode over to the wild boy, who was just finishing his banana. Matt was leaning against the tree, watching Near with a quizzical expression. "Look at what?" Mello snapped.

"Nothing," Pan said quietly, his black eyes suddenly piercing. "Don't you think you could go easy on the kid?"

"I'm just trying to help!" Mello said defensively. What could be more encouraging than a direct challenge?

"You're not helping. You're making it harder."

Mello looked back at Near, his white clothes stained but still bright in against the varied colors of the jungle, gazing up at the sky. "I doubt that," he said, failing utterly at hiding his bitterness. "He never gives a damn what I think or say anyway."

"I dunno, Mel," Matt said, uncharacteristically serious. "A few days ago I would've agreed with you…but Cinder and Turtle have been ragging on him almost constantly, and he just takes it. You say something and he gets upset or closes up."

"Tighter'n a clam," Pan agreed.

"I—that's ridiculous," Mello said automatically, but thought about it, frowning.

"Why are you waiting for him anyway?" Pan pressed. "You can fly just fine. I can tell you how to get back and you'll be there in no time."

"Are you kidding? There's no way Near could get back by himself. He can't fly as it is. Even if he catches on soon, if he had to go it alone he'd probably fall and skewer himself on the front gate," Mello said incredulously.

Matt looked oddly at him. "I think what Pan means is that Near might not want to go back any time soon."

Mello gaped at them. "Wha…but…we can't just _leave_ him here!" He turned to Matt, who refused to meet his eyes, toying with the brim of his hat. "Matt, you can't seriously be meaning to abandon Near in this…place!"

His friend looked uncomfortable for a moment, then said softly, "I didn't say anything about leaving anyone behind."

"You mean—you mean you want to _stay_ here?!" Matt stared stolidly past Mello and said nothing, much as he often did when people stopped his games in what inevitably turned out to be unsuccessful attempts to get his attention. "Look, this might be some weird impulse you're having, but I know you better than that," Mello said angrily. "You're more responsible than that. This whole fairy tale thing isn't real life. There's no room in the world for just playing—while you're screwing around the other guy is out there getting ahead of you! And whatever crazy phase Near is going through, I don't think he'll be wanting to stay here either!"

"Since when do you care what Near wants?" Matt retorted.

"Be honest, Matt, do you really think Near could survive out here? He's a freaking china doll! A few days in the woods without his stupid puzzles and he'll be tearing his hair out! And besides, what the hell do you think Roger would do if we showed up without him?"

"You seem awfully concerned about him, given how much you claim to hate him," Pan said slyly.

"I _do_ hate him!" Mello said explosively, "But that's completely beside—"

"I'm not deaf, you know," said Near, who Mello realized with a shock was standing right beside him. His expression was unreadable through his thick bangs.

The blonde floundered for a moment, thrown off. "I—well—it's true!" he sputtered finally. "I don't think you could last here a week without getting yourself killed!"

"Pan brings up a good point though," Near said, his eyes narrowing. "Why should you care? Go back to Wammy's if you want. Be number one. Isn't that what you want?"

Mello couldn't believe his ears. "Near, how can you giving up so easily on L? Don't you see how ridiculous this all is?"

Near frowned. "I never said I was giving up on L. But we're young. Is it really so important? L's not looking to drop dead any second last I heard. What's the big hurry?"

"Why are you being such a kid about this?" Mello demanded.

"We _are_ kids, Mello!" Near snapped back, startling both Mello and Matt. Pan just watched them through half-lidded eyes. "Is there anything so wrong with wanting to be able to just _be_ a kid for once in our lives? What other chance are we ever going to have?"

"He might be right, Mel," Matt said.

Mello stared from one to the other. "I can't believe this," he said disbelievingly. "I can't believe you can just throw away what we've been competing for for years. I can't believe you're being so—so immature!"

"Mel," Matt started, stepping forward beseechingly. "Come on—"

"No!" snarled Mello, backing away. "No," he repeated. "I don't want any part of this!" Turning abruptly, he strode out of the clearing in the opposite direction from their camp, branches whipping as he shoved them violently out of his way.

"Would talking to him do any good?" Pan asked, biting his thumb and watching Mello disappear into the trees.

Matt's shoulders were slumped. "No," he said unhappily. "He needs to cool down a bit…otherwise he might kill someone."

Pan nodded. "Cherry," he said, "Go keep an eye on him. Don't let him stay lost after dark." The fairy zoomed off after the angry blonde.

Matt felt like a jerk. Of course Mello would be upset about him taking Near's side. But he actually agreed with Near in this instance—and Mello would come around…he hoped. He glanced at the younger boy, who was staring after the place where Mello had stomped off. "You ok?" Matt asked awkwardly, not sure if he needed or wanted sympathy. It was always hard to tell…but the stricken look that had flashed across his face for an instant before he interrupted Mello's tirade had been telling.

"Fine," Near muttered, not looking up. "I'm going to go make some more darts." He shuffled off without another word.

.oOo.

Mello crashed blindly through the vines and underbrush, fuming. How was it that he was the only reasonable person on this whole damn island? A thin branch whipped him across the cheek and stung madly on his sunburn, and as he reached up to it automatically his sleeve caught on another low-hanging, thorny branch. With a frustrated snarl he wrenched at it, ripping his sleeve and nearly stumbling.

When he had finally stomped the edge off his anger, a cold feeling washed over him as he realized he had no idea where he was or how to get back. Mello let out a sharp, aggravated sigh and flung himself to the ground at the foot of a large tree, burying his face in his arms.

Mello hated Neverland. Hated it passionately. It was a fairy tale brought to life, and he hated fairy tales because they were lies. Lies that adults told children to trick them into thinking life was nice and pretty and happy before they turned around and beat the opposite lesson into them. At Wammy's things were clear. No one tried to pretend that anything like a fairy tale was ever going to happen to any of them. There was just competition and hard facts. Anything that seemed too good to be true always was, and he didn't want to be around to find out what the dark side of this place was.

Why couldn't Matt and Near see that?

He looked up suddenly when he heard the soft jingling of Cherry's wings, then sighed as she alighted on his knee. She sat down, patting his knee sympathetically and getting sugardust all over his pantleg. Half the fire drained out of him. It was just too hard to be angry at a tiny fairy who made tasty cake for people.

"I'll have to go back eventually," he told her miserably. "I can fly, but I don't know how to get back to Wammy's…I don't even remember how we got here."

Mello leaned his head back against the tree, staring up through the shifting leaves. His first instinct had been to feel betrayed by Matt, but the gamer half lived in a fantasy world anyway. Perhaps it was not so strange that he was so easily enchanted by Neverland. And Near—

"He's a jerk," he told Cherry. "He's condescending and cold and…" So why was it that he felt like the mean one? She just looked at him a little sadly, and he wondered how much of what he was saying she understood. Mello sighed again, not sure if he were angrier with Near or himself for actually feeling a little guilty about what he had said to the younger boy.

_He can handle it,_ Mello told himself brusquely.

If only he had some chocolate, this situation might at least be bearable. "I don't suppose you have any chocolate hidden away," he said dispiritedly.

To his astonishment, the tiny girl sprang to her feet, pointing eagerly.

"What—you _do _have chocolate around here somewhere?" he asked, hardly daring to believe it.

Cherry nodded brightly and lifted into the air, waving for him to follow her. Mello scrambled after the bobbing fairy. Why the hell hadn't he said something sooner?

But his excitement died abruptly as the cake fairy stopped at another tree, flitting about it and chattering in her high, twittering voice. Mello stared at it. "Chocolate doesn't grow on trees," he snapped at her, waving his hand at the offending plant. "I mean like the candy! Sweet and brown? Comes wrapped in foil?"

She made a face at him and gestured emphatically into the tree's branches, where several golden brown pods were hanging. Buzzing up the trunk she kicked at one of them. It swung, but didn't fall.

Mello eyed it quizzically. In actuality the boy didn't know where chocolate came from beyond the candy shop, but now that he thought about it he supposed it had to come from _somewhere_ before they shaped and wrapped it. Maybe it _did_ grow on trees. More immediate to his priorities, maybe it was growing on _this_ tree.

Only one way to find out.

"You better not be dragging me on," he told Cherry. Then, focusing on the possibly imminent rich sweetness of chocolate melting in his mouth, he leapt into the air, flying up and seizing a fat pod and yanking it off its stem. He dropped back down to the ground with his prize and examined it. It was encased in a tough rind that didn't seem to be anything remotely related to chocolate. Mello pried at it with his fingernails to no avail. The idea that his favorite candy could very well be waiting inside for him, just beyond his reach, was driving him crazy.

Smashing it against the trunk a few times was no good either. "How do I open it?" he asked the fairy with an edge of desperation.

Cherry flitted several feet away, where a small outcropping of rock pushed up half-hidden in the ferns. Hurrying over to it, Mello knelt and slammed the pod down on a pointy bit of rock—once, twice. On the third hit a chunk broke off. Eagerly Mello flipped it over to see what he had uncovered.

To his dismay, there was nothing inside but little white beans the size of almonds. "What is this?" he demanded, but the fairy was unfazed. Fluttering down and perching on the edge of the pod, she pried out a bean and held it up triumphantly.

"Are—are you sure? It doesn't look like chocolate," Mello said uncertainly. Cherry nodded, tucking the bean under one arm and beginning to dig out another.

Mello picked a bean out of the pod and eyed it suspiciously. Then (not noticing the fairy's sudden expression of dismay and gesturing to stop) he took an experimental bite.

"Gah!" he cried, spitting it out immediately and staggering to his feet. The horrible pod of bitter beans tumbled to the ground, and Cherry rose in the air, shaking a tiny finger at him.

"What the hell was that?" Mello yelled, spitting again. "What kind of evil trick—"

The blonde stopped in mid-rant at the sound of voices and crashing in the undergrowth. Suddenly looking afraid, Cherry landed on his shoulder and put a finger to her mouth, her eyes wide. Mello backed up toward the nonchocolate tree, crouching low and peering in the direction the sounds were coming from.

"It came from this way," came a woman's voice.

"Yes, I heard it too…" a man responded. "It's got to be one of Pan's brats…."

Mello stiffened in anger. _Pan's brat? Like hell he was!_ He stood abruptly. "Who's there?" he shouted, ignoring the pain as Cherry pinched his ear, hard. Then she darted into his gold hair as someone slashed their way into the clearing.

The blonde fought a desire to laugh—if Pan seemed like something from a fairy tale, these two had certainly walked out of a paperback adventure novel. The tall, lean man wore a striped bandana over his shoulder-length dreadlocks and the woman had a thick gold hoop in one ear. Both were decked out in weather-worn but brightly colored costumes and boots, and carried their wickedly curved scimitars on their belts with familiar ease.

"Well, what have we got here, Teru?" the woman purred, eyeing Mello much as a lioness might eye a particularly plump gazelle.

"A little Lost Boy all alone in the jungle? Maybe he's looking for his little playmates…perhaps he'd like to play with us instead." They both laughed, and Teru's sword hand twitched.

Mello was sick of games and in no mood to be toyed with. "I'm not lost," he snapped. "And games are a waste of time."

"Oho, is that so?" said the woman, arching a brow, and Teru chuckled. "Not going to run away? A Lost Boy who's all grown up?"

"Ah, but he claims he's not, Taki," Teru said with mocking seriousness.

Mello considered the situation warily. Generally he would say adults could never be trusted—but these two were so obviously dishonest that if he were careful, he might be able to make use of them. "Are you with Captain Kira?" he asked boldly.

Teru looked amused. "Not a very smart little grownup, is he? Captain Kira's the _only_ ruler on this island."

Mello crossed his arms belligerently, hoping he looked fearlessly confident. "I want you to take me to him," he demanded.

Taki laughed disbelievingly, but Teru narrowed his eyes. "Awfully cocky for a little jungle brat, aren't you?"

"I might be willing to make a deal with him," the blonde pressed. If Captain Kira was so well established in Neverland, he must know another way to get back to the normal world without Pan's help. If Matt and Near kept up with their idiocy…perhaps a little coercion would help. It was for their own good, after all.

"Oh?" said Teru, lifting a brow. "And what makes you think he would want to parley with you?" His hand was shifting uncomfortably close to the handle of his scimitar.

Mello examined his nails coolly. "Oh, I don't know…If, say, he were missing something…such as a map, for instance?" Taki's brows jumped and Teru glanced sidelong at her for a split second. "I might be able to be of help…."

The pirates looked at each other meaningfully, then turned back to Mello with twin smirks. "Well seeing as how you're so eager to help…" Taki said smoothly, "perhaps he'll be willing to hear you out. Come with us…we'll take you right to him."

He felt Cherry brush against the back of his neck and then disappear as she slipped behind his back out of the pirates' view and into the thick cover of the ferns. Mello didn't turn to give her away to the pirates, but he wasn't sorry she was going either. Tricky little bean-picking fiend. If she wanted to go back to Pan, fine. Let her.

His heart froze for a moment as the pirates drew their swords, then relaxed marginally as Taki sauntered back the way they had come, hacking through the vines randomly with her scimitar. With an unpleasant smile (he had two gold teeth, Mello noticed) Teru gestured with his blade for the boy to follow her. He strode forward brashly, ignoring the faint misgivings he felt as he caught the cruelly amused look the two exchanged.

.oOo.

**AN:** And again longer than I meant…I'm thinking I might chop the next one in two parts. In case you didn't get the whole white bean tree business, chocolate is made from fermented cacao beans.

Hope you enjoyed...next might be a while, got a test and a research paper proposal coming up D:


	4. Pirates

Chapter 4: Pirates.

To Mello's relief, the pirates set a much slower pace than the Lost Boys had as they made their way through the jungle. Despite the greater ease of keeping up, however, he couldn't help but feel scornful of the way Taki and Teru bashed through the vines, getting needlessly tangled at times in greenery that wasn't even in their way, unlike the wild boys slipping barefoot through the brush and leaving only the slightest traces of their passing. Although he wouldn't have minded having a sword to swing around and destroy stuff, the way they went about it was just clumsy and without style.

The trek across the long arching beach was a lot worse—without the obstacles of the jungle impeding them they strode briskly across the damp sand. Teru only had to taunt Mello once as he began to slow—not wanting to appear weak in this precarious situation, the boy made sure he kept up. Although he played outside a lot more than Near and Matt, a game of kickball was not really quite the same as half-jogging in black pajamas under the hot tropical sun with a blade-happy pirate right behind you.

No matter. He would put up with this for now, deal with Captain Kira, somehow get a hold of Matt and Near, and they'd be back in no time. Telling himself this periodically made him feel a lot more confident.

By the time they reached the place where the ship was docked, Mello's skin felt like it would peel right off and his shirt was soaked with sweat. Taki led him straight for the long timber dock, passing a few clumps of gaudily dressed men and women picking fruit in the treeline, cooking fish over fires on the beach, or just lounging around talking loudly and drinking from large round bottles. They hailed Taki and Teru, laughing coarsely and shouting questions about their 'prisoner,' which Teru parried with an evasive, "Captain's business."

Loftily avoiding the avidly curious stares of the pirates, Mello examined the ship appraisingly. Three gleaming masts towered over the decks amidst a maze of lines and net ladders. A dark row of gunports striped the side. The decks shone whitely under the sun and the rails were intricately carved in what the boy realized with an unpleasant jolt were the hunched and twisted shapes of humans in obvious agony.

That macabre detail in what was otherwise a clean, polished-looking ship shook him a little.

"Go on up," Teru said, gesturing as Taki led the way up the gangplank. Mello followed her, schooling his face into a scowl. The main deck was mostly empty—apparently most of the crew was on shore. The scrubbed wooden planks were hot under Mello's bare feet but he hid his discomfort, determined to give a confident impression.

He followed Taki all the way to the stern cabin, where she straightened her shoulders and knocked firmly on the cabin door.

"What is it?" demanded a girlish, irritating voice. Mello started in surprise and tried to remember if anyone had explicitly said that Captain Kira was a man or if he had simply assumed it.

Taki made a face at the door. "It's Takada, Misa. Is the Captain too busy to handle the affairs of his ship?"

Misa began to respond but was halted. "Ah, Taki. Please, come in!" an exasperated-sounding man called.

Pushing the door open and standing back, Taki indicated with her scimitar that Mello should go in ahead of them. Standing straight, he strode into the cabin.

His eyes had to adjust; after the blazing sun, reflecting off the white sand and white deck and bright water, the cabin with its high stern windows seemed oppressively dark. Slowly through the gloom he began to make out the details of the room. The whitewashed walls were nearly covered in large maps of the island and surrounding water, with detailed charts showing the the underwater topography of the lagoon and reefs. Heavy wooden shelves and tables around the edges of the small cabin were neatly arranged with collected treasures, carven masks, jewelled boxes, and several dozen leatherbound books. In the center of the room was a large desk wih an enormous chart spread over it, the corners of which were held down with a china teapot, a small ornate chest, a flickering lamp, and what appeared disturbingly to be a human skull. Large rubies set in its eyesockets glittered in the lamplight.

Behind the desk a man leaned over the chart with his palms flat on its surface. His cleanshaven face looked surprisingly young even to Mello's nine-year-old eyes. An abundance of gold braid adorned his scarlet coat and a waterfall of white ruffles spilled out at the collar. Mello couldn't help but admire his dashing style, though perhaps the sweeping white feather in his tricorn hat was a bit much. As he looked up, however, Mello noted that like his ship and cabin, Captain Kira's debonair appearance had an almost incongruously dark detail. His first startled impression was that the man's eyes were two different colors; but almost immediately after he realized that the pirate was wearing an eyepatch, and over the place his right eye should have been a baleful red eye was embroidered. The effect was extremely unsettling, giving you the the impression that you were constantly being stared at.

"What is this?" a woman standing at Kira's shoulder demanded imperiously. Mello guessed that she must be Misa. He wondered how on earth she moved about (or breathed, even) in her corset. She didn't look like much of a fighting pirate.

"This child—" (Mello bristled) "claims to have a deal to offer, Captain," Teru said smartly, pointedly ignoring Misa.

"Is that so?" the captain said, standing straight and examining Mello. "And what would a Lost Boy presume to offer Captain Kira?"

"I'm not a Lost Boy," Mello said firmly, crossing his arms and staring boldly into Kira's hazel eye.

"I do beg your pardon," said Captain Kira, leaning forward and peering at him. "You'll forgive me, with one eye it is sometimes difficult to see in this dim light. A Lost Girl, then."

Taki and Teru sniggered and Mello fisted his hands in outrage. "I'm a boy!"

"Ah, again, my apologies." Captain Kira's voice and expression were so sincere and conciliatory that Mello couldn't tell if he was being mocked or if the mistake was genuine. He flushed. Did he really look that girly? "You mean, then, that your loyalty does not lie with Pan and his Lost Boys."

"Yes, that's right," Mello said, hoping he sounded as gruff and masculine as a prepubescent boy could.

"And you have information regarding them that you think will interest me?"

Mello wasn't about to let this Captain Kira simply take control of this whole situation. "I'll deal with you directly, but I won't say a word in front of them—" he jerked a thumb back at Teru and Taki, "or your wench there."

"Wench?! I'm the first mate of this ship!" Misa screeched huffily. The captain winced, and Taki's laugh was hastily turned to a cough.

The boy ignored her, keeping his eyes on the captain. Kira looked at him appraisingly, then nodded. "I'm sure the boy means no harm," he told his first mate coolly.

"You're just going to let this runt talk to me that way?" Misa demanded, flipping a long blond braid angrily over her shoulder.

Taki stifled another laugh as Kira frowned at Misa, his single eye narrowing. "If I say it's not a problem, it's not a problem," he said coldly. "All of you, please leave us now, so that I may speak with this young man."

"Yes Captain," Teru and Taki said crisply, and Misa flounced after them, shooting Mello a nasty look as she went. The door snapped shut behind them, making the room even darker.

"Please, sit," Captain Kira said, his cold, intimidating expression melting into a disarming smile as he gestured to a chair in front of the desk. "I'm afraid we were not properly introduced—I am Captain Kira, captain of this ship and commander of this island."

"Mello," he said shortly, dropping warily into the chair. The wooden seat was hard, and put him in mind of a rather recent time he had sat in a similar chair in front of Roger's desk (being lectured for gluing the pages of Near's algebra textbook together).

The pirate settled gracefully into his own velvet-cushioned chair. "May I offer you some cacao, Mello?" He lifted the teapot, pouring the brown liquid into a delicate china cup. The thick scent of chocolate teased at Mello, and his mouth immediately began to water. He perked instantly.

"Ah—if you insist," Mello replied in what he hoped was a careless tone. So there _was_ chocolate to be had on this island! He had been right in coming to Captain Kira. The pirate handed him the steaming cup and began to pour one for himself. Mello took a cautious sip.

_Oh_.

The smooth cacao was much richer than the instant cocoa they sometimes had on cold nights at Wammy's, almost like drinking liquid chocolate. Mello could actually feel his frayed nerves relaxing as the sweet taste flooded his mouth.

"Like it?" Kira asked casually, watching him intently over the rim of his own cup.

Mello put the cup down abruptly; he had downed half the cup in one swallow. Cursing himself, he reminded of the tentative situation he was in, that he needed to be on his guard and not give Kira any advantages. It took him a moment to remember exactly why he had come. "It's ok."

The pirate smiled charmingly, and Mello found himself thinking that he didn't seem half bad of a fellow, freaky eyepatch and overly dramatic hat nonewithstanding. Trust a wild half-crazed kid with feathers in his hair like Pan to be enemies with a civilized person who actually had some style and access to proper food.

"So then," Captain Kira said, setting his cup down on a saucer with a soft _clink_. "What is the nature of the information you wished to give me?"

"Not give," corrected Mello. "Trade. I have information that I understand you want, but I want something from you too."

"Oh?" A questioning eyebrow invited him to continue.

"Passage. Out of Neverland. Back to…" Mello paused. Earth? The real world? England? Where was Neverland in relation to Wammy's anyway?

"Ah…back to your real home, in the world outside Neverland?" Captain Kira supplied. Mello nodded, scowling, and Kira looked curiously amused. "Interesting…so Pan is taking children from the outside and bringing them here against their will now, hm?"

"…sort of," said Mello, wondering how many Lost Boys had been to Neverland and gone back. "There are two others who need to come too."

Captain Kira took a sip from his cacao. "Siblings of yours?" he asked, his voice gentle with compassion without being sappy.

Mello hated claiming any sort of relation to Near, but on the other hand he didn't want to give any more information away than he had to, and didn't think it was necessary to explain the orphanage. "Yeah. Can you do it?"

"Certainly," the captain said, spreading his hands generously. "Pan can be childish and impetuous…certainly no one should be forced to come to Neverland against their will. I am a reasonable man, and willing to help any honest person who asks it of me…. Although," and his left eye sharpened, though his smile remained easy and relaxed. "It is strange that you come on the behalf of three, alone, looking for an escape. Are your siblings held hostage?"

Half-consciously Mello picked his cup back up and swallowed a large mouthful of cacao. They were, in a manner of speaking, weren't they? Kira did not seem to be the heartless dealer Mello had imagined. Would he be willing to help Mello force them to return to Wammy's if they kept up with their stupid childishness? If he made it sound like they were being held against their will, perhaps a "rescue mission" could be arranged in which they could be seized without time to ask questions. "Yes," he said.

"Do you have a plan to extract them, or in addition to passage are you asking that we assist you in freeing your companions?"

"That would be appreciated," Mello replied. He was beginning to feel like perhaps this was not the even deal he had meant to offer. But this Kira seemed to be the altruistic type, and they were easy to use. And he had offered, after all.

"It is odd," Kira said, his voice smooth as chocolate, as Mello took a cocky swig from his cacao. "Pan alone could not have managed to forcefully kidnap all three of you, could he? Just how many Lost Boys does he have right now?"

It _was_ odd, the thought struck Mello like lightning, that the pirate was asking so many questions about Mello's end of the deal and seemed so interested in accomodating him, but had made no mention past his initial question of what information Mello was willing to trade for all this help. Looking over the top of his cup, the cruel stare of the crimson eye caught his gaze. With an effort he wrenched his eyes away from it to Kira's living eye, which was wide and innocent.

How would such an innocuous-seeming person keep a shipful of rowdy pirates under control?

This man, he realized, was not Roger. Mello was being manipulated. And not only was he smarter than Mello had given him credit for, but he had a crew of fighters at his disposal. Suddenly the walls of the cabin seemed uncomfortably close.

Captain Kira was watching him expectantly. He had to say something—more importantly, he had to get out of here. If he could get outside at least, he could escape by air easily. "About a dozen," he invented, "and we might not have much time—if we could go as soon as possible—"

Suddenly there were shouts outside, and pounding on the door. Mello nearly jumped out of his skin.

"What is it?" Captain Kira called, not taking his eye off Mello.

"It's the monster, Captain—" Teru shouted urgently. "Ryuk is back again—he's coming into the lagoon now, and coming fast—"

The abrupt change in the captain's demeanor was shocking. His chair clattered back as he leapt to his feet, a savage snarl twisting his face into an inhuman mask, the act of patient benevolence shattered. "That _damned_ overgrown sea slug! _You_—" he thrust a finger at Mello, who sat back in his chair in alarm at the transformation. "Stay right there!" Coat flying, Kira wrenched open the door and slammed it shut so hard the masks and figurines on the shelves rattled.

Mello jumped out of his chair, dropping his cup of cacao as he ran to the door, but the lock clicked before he could get his hand on the knob. With a growl of frustration he shook it uselessly. He looked wildly around the room. This was the perfect opportunity to escape, now, while he was by astounding luck alone for a few moments. The high stern windows were made to withstand brutal tropical seastorms, narrow with thick, bubbly glass. Mello wasn't sure if even his thin frame would fit, but options were a bit thin on the ground.

Desperately he cast about for something he could use to smash the windows. But the objects displayed on the shelves were all either too bulky for him to easily wield, or too delicate to break through the thick glass. His eyes came to rest on the small chest on the table—it was small enough for him to pick up in two hands, bound and decorated with ornate but heavy iron fastenings.

As he seized it, he noted with brief interest that a small wooden model marked the position of the ship on the chart spread on the desk, and outside the lagoon sat a carved onyx serpent, with a heavy dotted line behind it marking a trail that looped and meandered around and around the island. Apparently Kira was tracking Ryuk's movements. Mello hefted the box—it was heavier than he expected—and something inside clattered.

There was a heavy lock on the side of the chest, which was rather undermined by the fact that the key was in it. Had Kira been using it right before Mello had come? Curious, Mello flipped the box open as he hurried to the table under the window. He would take a quick look and toss out whatever it was so the shifting weight wouldn't make the box harder to swing.

He stopped in his tracks, entranced.

Carefully he lifted his prize out of the chest. It was the largest gem he had ever seen (not that he had seen them in any other context than pictures). Perfectly round, the smoothly polished stone seemed to somehow have been faceted on the _inside_ so that it glittered and caught the narrow sunrays that lanced through the dusty window so that it seemed to burn from within. Mello cradled it in his palm, mesmerized by the sparkling fire.

Hadn't he told Matt that real treasure would be somewhere safe, where the pirate could keep his eye on it? Seemed that he had been right after all.

Mello was startled out of his trance by rattling at the door—someone was coming in. On impulse he began to cram the jewel into his pocket, but his pocket was already full of his crumpled socks. Yanking out a sock, he stuffed the ball inside it and then put the whole thing in his pocket—it wasn't much, but it was some sort of protection for the precious object. He dove for his chair just as the door swung open—he didn't want anyone to notice he had taken anything immediately.

It was Misa. She didn't seem to notice anything amiss as she strode into the room and grabbed him by the arm, yanking him unceremoniously out into the chaos on deck. "Hey!" he shouted, struggling. The woman was stronger than she looked despite the bustles and corset.

"Taki, help her!" Kira yelled. Drums were rumbling loudly, calling all hands to the ship. The captain was standing on the stern deck, holding a long brass telescope to his eye so tightly Mello wondered if he had punched out the first one doing that. Pirates were running about the deck, some watching the dark shape looping through the water of the lagoon, others running about doing who-knew-what, all of them shouting. The pirates still on shore were putting out their fires, running across the beach to board the ship. Thinking he could easily escape in all this uproar, Mello kicked Misa savagely in the leg. With a shriek she dropped his arm, but before he could run Taki seized him from behind.

"Watch what you're doing, Misa," she said coolly, wrenching his arms painfully behind his back. The first mate scowled at her, grabbing Mello a little more violently than necessary, her long nails digging into his shoulder.

"Take him below!" Captain Kira ordered, clattering down the steps to the main deck, clapping the telescope closed. "Pan'll come sniffing around for our little runaway eventually, no doubt. But right now we have other things to deal with!"

"Shall we weigh anchor and take evasive action, captain?" Teru shouted.

"No, damn it! Ryuk can move ten times faster than we can through the water, he'll be on top of us before we even set the sails! We're going to fire!" Kira barked, his eye wild. "I want you to blow that damn piece of slithering sushi out of the goddamn water!"

Despite the fierce desperation of his thrashing, Mello couldn't break away from the two pirates. He froze abruptly as he felt the cold touch of Taki's scimitar at his neck. "Now now, play nice, little boy," she chuckled.

Mello snarled in inarticulate rage, humiliated and furious at how easily Kira had handled him. He had never meant to deal with him at all, had only tried to get information from him and then use him as bait to attract Pan. He gave Taki the most poisonous glare he could muster.

She ignored the glare as the two women forced him down the steep ladder-stair, past the gundeck with its double row of 24-pounders in their heavy carriages, down into the murky gloom of the cargo hold. They hauled him unceremoniously past the high stacks of bales and crates to the brig, a sort of room barred off from the rest of the hold with a thick iron grate that reached from the ceiling to the floor. Taki held him firmly, the notched blade pricking at his skin, as Misa opened the padlock with a large black key from a keyring at her hip and slid the jangling chains free.

He stumbled and fell as Taki shoved him into the prison, then scrambled to his feet and charged the door—but they held it fast against his slight weight and the chains rattled and the lock snapped and he was trapped.

"Let me out!" he screamed, shaking the bars in panicked fury.

"These wild boys really are just unbelievably uncivilized," Misa sniffed as the two women sauntered away.

Mello was left alone in darkness, beside himself with rage, thinking that he would never attempt any sort of deal again unless he had it infallibly planned out ahead of time.

The ceiling rumbled as pandemonium broke loose on the decks above.

.oOo.

**AN:** This is actually one half of a chapter in my original plotline, but I separated it bc a. I was worried about it getting much longer than I wanted and b. I have a lot of difficulty writing Mello, and I wanted to actually focus on this part of his perspective. Let me know if he comes across as ooc…and also if the pace/plot was difficult to follow... Hope you enjoyed


	5. Rescue

**AN:** Haha, while I was writing this chapter they were showing the pirate episode on Mythbusters. XD I've been dying to write this part for a while now so I got it all done in one go. Hope you enjoy it!

.oOo.

Near held the delicate dart between his thumb and forefinger, dipping its sharp tip into the little bottle of poison Brown had supplied him with. Blowing on it gently, he watched the liquid dry, then lined it up in a row with the others and picked up new one.

"How many of those is he going to make?" Turtle whispered loudly. "He's like a dart-making machine!"

Near was sitting apart from the rest of them, sitting on a large flat rock on the edge of the stream as sedately as though he were working on his little models in the Wammy playroom.

"Is he ok?" Cinder asked.

Matt was not exactly the world's greatest expert on Near (actually, he reconsidered, no one really seemed to understand the boy, so perhaps he was as qualified as anyone) but this at least was a situation he was familiar with. "This is pretty normal for him."

"Really?" said Turtle incredulously. "He doesn't seem ok to me. Is he…" he lowered his voice and tapped his head meaningfully. "You know…_ok_?"

The redhead opened his mouth, then paused and frowned. Everyone at Wammy's was, he supposed, messed up in their own special way. Near was just another head case among many, so it had never struck Matt as particularly weird. That was just how he was. But these kids were so…concerned. It surprised Matt to find that he appreciated that difference from the cold observation and acceptance of the Wammy students. "Well he's not crazy, if that's what you mean. But…I honestly don't know."

Near was thinking. Eventually Mello would come back. There was a small chance he would decide to stay. The other possibilities were that he would try again to convince Matt and Near to leave with him, or that he would leave himself. Near had no idea what the ratio of that probability was. Mello was so predictable at times, and so hard to understand at others. He flicked the soft yellow feathers bound to the end of the dart, staring at it and trying to decide what the optimal situation was.

They were the top three at Wammy's, he thought calculatingly. The fourth place contender was no competition to Matt. He didn't think their places were threatened if they stayed here, say, a month or so, and he frankly didn't care very much if Roger was worried. If they were going to build institutions designed to train children to act nothing like children, they would just have to deal with the complications those children presented. Neverland was intriguing, and he was actually enjoying himself for the most part. But Mello….

Near brushed the feathered end of the dart against his chin, gazing at the sparkling water. Mello wasn't happy here. _Maybe it was best that he go back_, Near thought unhappily. But what about Pan's question? Why did Mello care so much that he and Matt came too? Of course Matt was his friend, so he supposed that made sense, but shouldn't he be glad to be rid of Near? Especially since he claimed…Near's chest grew tight, but he forced himself to follow the thought through objectively. If he hated Near so much, Mello should be delighted to not have him around. Shouldn't he? Was he lying because they were rivals for L's position?

Did it really matter whether it was true or not as long as Mello stuck to the claim?

He sighed.

"Hey."

Near looked up, surprised. Pan was poised on a nearby rock, looking like some kind of wood nymph with his smudged face and the feathers sticking jauntily in his wild hair. The younger boy hadn't even heard him approach.

Pan crouched, examining the neat row of poisoned darts. "Don't worry about Mello. He'll come around. They always do." He looked up, grinning through his long hair.

Near wanted to believe he was right, but was dubious. It must have shown on his face, because Pan laughed. "Believe me. I've seen it happen."

"How long have you been here?" Near asked curiously.

Pan shrugged. "I don't know. Who cares? Kids don't grow up here. Time doesn't matter like it does in the other world."

Near wondered briefly where in the world Pan had gotten this laidback, confident attitude. He wished he could be as relaxed about things as this boy seemed to be. Pan just seemed to take it for granted that everything would always be ok, that nothing could happen that he couldn't handle.

"He'll come crashing back through the jungle sometime soon, and we can work this all out," Pan told him, his voice filled with that confidence. For a moment Near almost believed him, and then suddenly there was a faint jingling whizzing past his head and Cherry lit on Pan's shoulder, gesturing madly. Near looked around for Mello, but the blonde was nowhere in sight. Matt saw the fairy too, and stood in surprise.

"Cherry," said Pan, letting her step into his palm, "What are you doing? Didn't I tell you to stay—" he stopped, listening to her high-pitched chatter. His face darkened and he bit his thumb. "Is that so," he muttered.

"What?" Near asked, as Matt and the Lost Boys started heading toward them to find out what was going on.

Pan stared at him for a moment, then broke into his fiendish grin. "Mello's been captured by pirates."

The bottom dropped out from Near's stomach. "He _what_?"

"Pan!" called Matt, coming up to them. "What's going on? Wasn't she supposed to be with Mello?"

"Captain Kira's captured him!" Pan repeated, leaping lightly to his feet and hopping over the water to the bank.

Despite the hot sun Matt suddenly felt cold all over. "What—we have to do something!"

"We're going to!" Pan shouted over his shoulder as he strode into the trees in the direction of the treehouse. "Come on boys, we're going to go play with the pirates! Brown, lead them on ahead once you've gathered what you need, I'll catch up with you."

"All right, yeah!" yelled Cinder enthusiastically, running to find her bow and arrows. Turtle jumped about excitedly. "A rescue mission! Awesome!"

Matt gaped at them. "This isn't just a game—our friend is in danger!"

"It's gonna be ok, Matt," Turtle told him, bubbling. "Don't worry, we'll save him!"

"Better grab those darts," Brown told Near, who was still sitting looking stunned. "You're probably gonna need them."

.oOo.

Adrenaline and worry sped their feet. Pan caught up with them soon carrying a large cloth bundle and brought up the rear, encouraging them brightly whenever their energy flagged. "Don't worry," he kept saying. "This'll be fun, you'll see."

Matt couldn't help but worry. What would the pirates do to Mello? This was Neverland, after all—was this just a game, like Pan and the Lost Boys seemed to see it, or was Captain Kira more serious about his fight with the wild boys? Mello wasn't one to be kidnapped quietly—what might they have resorted to to restrain him?

It seemed to take forever to reach the lagoon. Instead of taking to the beach they slipped through the jungle to keep the cover of the trees. The ground began to climb, rising in a ridge that overlooked the lagoon. They kept low on the slope, where they could see the ship through the trees.

Now they were almost even with it, and had stopped to hack out a plan. Pan and Turtle had scrambled up a large, vine-covered tree to see better and were consulting in low tones over how they might approach it.

"There must be about thirty there on the beach," Matt whispered, sizing up the situation. He and Near were crouched together, peering through the leaves at the pirates on the beach. "There's no way we could beat our way through them even if we were properly armed, but we have darts and dye arrows and they have swords and pistols. We'll have to sneak aboard. But then how do we avoid being seen?"

Near half-listened, twirling his hair. His mind was troubled by an entirely different problem.

"Matt," he said finally, "Don't you think this is…weird?"

"Yeah, no kidding," Matt said fervently. "Sitting here in the jungle, planning to rescue Mel from pirates? It's like we're living in a game."

"No, not that," Near said, and his brow knotted. "I mean Mello getting captured like this."

Matt looked sidelong at Near. "Well now that you've cleared that up..."

The younger boy tugged on a lock of hair. "Think about it. Mello's smart, and thinks fast in a tight situation. He can fly and Cherry's there to help engineer an escape if necessary. Not to mention he can kick pretty hard."

"What are you saying, Near?" Matt said tightly.

Near's dark eyes met his. "Mello can be rash. He stormed off, angry. Is it entirely implausible that if he happened to run across the pirates, he might have gone with them voluntarily, to oppose Pan?"

Matt stared at him for a long moment, then turned angrily back to the beach. "And did it ever occur to you that perhaps he was in a condition where struggling was impossible?"

"…No. That is also possible." He wound the hair even tighter around his finger, gazing at the shore.

Matt resisted the urge to hit him. "Look, Near, I understand that you and Mello don't get along very well, and I know he might have upset you earlier" (Near shifted uncomfortably but didn't attempt to deny it, confirming Matt's suspicion) "but just because he says careless things sometimes doesn't make him a traitor."

"I wasn't trying to say he betrayed anyone," Near pointed out quietly. "I'm just saying he can be reckless. You know him. Sometimes he acts without thinking through the full implications of his actions first."

"So what's your point then, you don't think we should try to help him?" Matt demanded.

"I—no, that's not what I—" Near started, but before he could finish Pan dropped out of the tree right behind them.

"You two ready for some action?" he whispered, eyes ablaze.

"Yeah, we just want to get him out of there," Matt said with a meaningful glare at Near.

"Do you have a plan?" Near asked.

"Sure do! Here's what I'm thinking. Cinder, Turtle, Brown and I will cause some distractions so you two can go aboard and look for Mello."

They stared at him. "What," said Near, "That's it? We're just going to walk right on up there? Don't you think we'll be a little…conspicuous?"

"Not at all," Pan replied with a diabolical grin, and showed them the contents of the bundle.

.oOo.

"This is insane," Near was muttering to himself as he and Matt sneaked through the trees toward the pirates. "No one would possibly mistake us for adults. We're going to be captured and then where will we be? What are we supposed to do if something goes wrong?"

Matt didn't respond, half because he agreed but had no better plan to save Mello, and half because despite his misgivings, Near had nonetheless reluctantly assented to the plan. Besides, if they were captured, then they would be with Mello and the three of them could work out something together provided Mello and Near didn't kill each other. He was beginning to get that tingly feeling in his fingers that he got right before charging a boss in a video game. He had to admit he actually felt like quite the swashbuckler in his borrowed costume.

Pan hadn't said how they had gotten a hold of the motley assortment of pirate clothing, but Matt assumed it was probably stolen. The two of them were decked out quite impressively in sailcloth shirts, brightly colored sashes, and broad-brimmed, floppy hats.

"None of the pirates would have boots as small as your feet. You'll just have to go barefoot and hopefully no one'll notice," Pan had said, but he had directed them to rub dirt on their faces to disguise their young, smooth skin and bound up Near's rather noticeable white curls in a scarlet bandanna before plopping the hat over top of it. "Don't worry so much. It'll be fine," he had told them. "It always is."

They stopped behind a huge mossy tree, peeking around its edge at the beach. A clump of pirates were lounging about on the sand a stone's throw away, laughing raucously at something that had been said and swigging heartily from a large brown bottle they were passing around.

"All right," Matt whispered. "There are pirates just sort of scattered around…I think I see one or two on the main deck too…we should probably be sort of into the group before Brown and Turtle and Cinder start their distraction. That way when people start running around it'll be easier to mingle in."

Near took a deep breath and adjusted his frock coat primly, an action that was so typically Near but so at odds with his appearance that Matt had to stifle a nervous giggle. "Ok," he said tightly. "Let's go."

They walked out of the trees and onto the sand. None of the pirates paid them any special attention. Matt's fear that they would be instantly noticed before they even got partway across the sand eased a little.

"Stop shuffling your feet," Matt muttered out of the corner of his mouth. "Pirates don't walk like that."

"Well how do you suggest I walk?" Near hissed, tense as a strung wire.

"Take bigger steps. Swagger a bit."

They were now a third of the way across the beach, and to Matt's surprise, they still didn't seem to have been noticed. Were these people blind? Trying not to appear too purposeful, the boys took a slightly wandering path, not getting too close to any of the pirates but not obviously avoiding them.

Suddenly there were shouts from the ship, and drums thundered out over the lagoon. Matt's insides froze. Had they been discovered? But none of the pirates seemed to be looking at them—they were shouting to each other, kicking sand over their fires and grabbing their bottles.

"Is this part of the distraction?" Near said, looking alarmed and bewildered.

"I don't know, but they're all running for the ship—let's go, this is our chance!"

"But then the ship will be packed with pirates!"

"Do you want to save Mello or not?! We might not get another chance—"

"Ok ok, quick then—"

They raced across the white sand, baggy clothes flapping, joining the line pounding down the dock and up the gangplank. Cries of "Monster!" and "He's back, boys!" rang through the air through the drumming and pounding of boots on wood. A man with dreadlocks standing at the rail was yelling "Man your guns!" at the top of his lungs. _Guns?_ thought Matt wildly, _that hadn't been part of the plan_—

Matt ducked out of the stream of pirates running for the ladder to get below to the gundeck. People were scattered everywhere, climbing into the rigging, running about in every direction and shouting. He dodged about randomly, hoping he was blending into the mayhem, taking stock of the ship. A man in a red coat and a large hat with a sweeping white feather stood on the sterncastle deck with two women, gazing intently out into the lagoon through a telescope. Automatically Matt looked out to the water. A dark shape was weaving rapidly through the gleaming turquoise water, approaching the ship at a terrifying rate. _So that's why they're going crazy—we couldn't have asked for a better distraction—but that means we have to find Mello and get out of here fast, before—_

Abruptly Matt realized that Near wasn't with him.

.oOo.

Near gritted his teeth, clamping down on his instinct to panic and trying to think of nothing but that they needed to find Mello. The rattling and pounding and shouting that clamored through the hot air and the dirty rushing bodies pressed around him made him feel like he had been strapped into a tight iron jacket, unable to breathe. He stumbled along, terrified of tripping and being trampled, almost falling when he reached the steep stairs.

The noise was even worse on the gundeck, where pirates were furiously loading the port side cannons, ramming the wads and hefting in the huge heavy balls. Near felt dizzy. This was not where he should be. Mello would be…well that depended, didn't it? If he were a prisoner he would be held somewhere secure, and if not…then this was all pointless anyway. The rumbling of the ship rattled his bones as the wooden gun carriages were shoved up to the gunports.

The dreadlocked pirate clattered down the stairs, jostling Near out of his frozen state. "Don't stand there like a beached fish, idiot, go below and get more powder!" he barked without really looking at him. Near took the command as an escape route, noticing the second ladderstair that must lead down to the cargo hold and scrambling down before anyone else noticed him and took a closer look at the tiny pirate.

"Fire!" came the order from above, and the air shattered as the 24-pounders crashed, the heavy carriages leaping back and the ship rocking from the force of the broadside. Crying out in pain, Near tripped down the last two stairs, covering his ears.

Staggering back to his feet, he leaned against a crate, gasping and letting his eyes adjust to the dark hold, waiting for his head to stop ringing. The thundering of the guns and feet overhead was still horrible, but not as overwhelming as it was in the midst of it all. At least Near wasn't in imminent danger of being crushed. And a creepy dark hold was a pretty good place to keep prisoners. Through the narrow corridor between stacks of crates he could see a sort of grate in the bow end of the hold. Trying to breathe as quietly as he could, he padded cautiously toward it, hoping there were no more pirates down here and that none were about to come crashing down the stairs behind him.

There were no pirates, but in the corner of the barred-off bow, a dark figure with blonde hair was huddled with his hands clamped over his ears.

"Mello!" Near cried, caution forgotten, running forward and clasping the bars. So he was a prisoner—had Matt been right then? What had the pirates done to force him to come?

Mello looked up in shock. It hadn't yet occurred to him yet that anyone would come to help him so soon, and especially not— "_Near_?"

"Yes, it's me, Mello, are you ok? Are you hurt?"

"I—no, I'm not hurt—" Mello scrambled to his feet, wondering if he were hallucinating. "What the hell are you wearing?"

Near sagged against the bars in relief. "Oh, thank goodness, Matt was wrong—"

"Wrong? What are you talking about? Where's everyone?"

Near was babbling. "I'm sorry Mello, it was just a theory, it's not that I thought you were a traitor—"

"What?" Mello said, grabbing the bars, feeling suddenly cold inside.

Near pulled away a little, his eyes wide.

"What are you saying, Near? You thought I was trying to side with Captain Kira?" Mello demanded.

Near looked a little rueful, but said defensively, "It was not entirely unreasonable—"

Mello, still burning with shame at the way Kira had played with him, felt an irrational surge of anger. His rival understood him far too well. There was no way he was going to admit to Near how badly his plan had gone. "Thanks for that, Near," he snapped. "Did you come here to just to make accusations, or were you going to gloat over how I got kidnapped so easily?"

Near stared at him, speechless. Apparently even breaking into a pirate ship to try to save him didn't redeem him in Mello's eyes. "No," he said finally, and looked as though he would go on. The cannons crashed again overhead, and their small hands clenched the bars as the ship bucked and rolled. Near swallowed, glanced up and said, "Do you know where the key is?"

"The first mate has it," Mello said coldly, dropping his hands from the bars. "On a ring. Lady in a corset. She's got long blond hair."

"Right," said Near, his face pale beneath the dirt. "Right. I'll—I'll be back." Turning away, he stumbled back to the ladder and disappeared.

.oOo.

Matt struggled to stay standing upright as the deck tossed wildly under his feet, shaken by the incredible force of the cannons. Where would a prisoner be kept on a ship? The stern cabin looked promising, with its sturdy wooden door and solid iron lock. Hoping he didn't look too suspicious, Matt kept his head down and hurried through the chaos across the deck, glancing around to see if Pan and the Lost Boys were still backing them up or if they had inadvertently dashed the plan. Controlling a character in a high-pressure situation was not remotely like actually being in it!

He tried the door automatically, expecting it to be locked, but to his surprise it was not, and he practically fell inside. Stumbling back to his feet, he looked around quickly, but he didn't see Mello anywhere. _He must be below_—

"What do you think you're doing?" squealed an irritating voice. Matt whirled around. A blond woman in a corset and flounced skirt was standing in the doorway, holding a cutlass. She gasped in surprise when she saw that he wasn't a pirate.

Matt backed into the desk, scanning the walls desperately for something he might use as a weapon—_could he wrest the sword from her hand? He had to do something before she called out, she'd have the whole ship on top of him_ –when suddenly she slapped at the back of her neck, went cross-eyed and collapsed forward.

The redhead gaped down at the pile of curls and ruffles at his feet, then recovered quickly, looking up. Near dashed into the room with the blowpipe in his hand and stunned expression stamped on his face. Snapping the door shut behind him, he leaned against it panting, staring wide-eyed at first at the lady, and then at Matt. A little tuft of blue feathers was sticking up at the back of her neck.

"I think maybe this sort of thing takes getting used to," Near whispered with an expression that clearly said he didn't think he was getting used to raiding pirate ships any time soon.

"_Hell_, Near, I dunno, that was pretty awesome—"

Near shook it off. "I think someone might have heard her—we need to get Mello, someone might be coming—but we need the—"

"Did you find Mel?" Matt asked, kneeling down, he pulled the dart out of the woman's neck. "Help me flip her over, pirate or no we can't just leave a lady like this, it's not right—"

"Since when are you a gentleman?" Near said with an edge of hysteria to his voice as he helped him heave her onto her back. Something jangled at her hip. "You've got to be kidding me—this place really IS magic—this must be the first mate!"

"How do you know?" Matt asked, noting that the pirate was quite pretty as Near pulled a ring of keys off her belt. He picked up her dropped cutlass just in case.

"I found Mello, he's in the cargo hold—he said the first mate had the keys!"

"Is he hurt or—"

"No, he's fine—"

"Whoa, this would be the easiest game ever—what are the odds? You gotta start leaving me something to do, Near—"

"Where did Misa go?" came a voice outside the door. "Didn't she say she was going to—"

Near froze, his hand clenched around the keys, dark eyes round with terror as he stared at Matt over the pirate's unconscious body. _What do we do? _he mouthed, apparently having reached the limit of his initiative.

Matt's mind raced. Standing slowly and silently, he pointed to himself and the door, and waved his hands wildly, then he pointed to Near, the keys, and the deck. Near opened his mouth as though to protest, but stood abruptly as the doorknob began to turn, nodding once.

"Coming through!" Matt whooped loudly, charging through the door and crashing into a woman with black hair and a gold hoop in one ear. She stumbled back, understandably unprepared to have small boys suddenly bursting out of the captain's cabin and knocking her over. On impulse Matt snatched the purple bandanna off her head and dashed across the deck like his feet were on fire, the cutlass in his other hand and yelling at the top of his lungs.

"Hey!" Taki screeched, regaining her balance and running after him. "Captain! There are Lost Boys aboard the ship!" she cried, her voice lost in the explosion of another broadside.

Near darted out the door as soon as the pirate's back was to him, slipping down the ladder quickly and just hoping that no one would notice him, that Matt wouldn't be caught, that they would all somehow get out of this ok and in the same number of pieces they had come in. The smoke from the guns was thick on the lower deck, effectively disguising him. It was in a daze that he stumbled back to the grate, his chest tight with fear.

Mello clung to the bars. He would never have admitted it but he had been waiting impatiently, the inability to even know, let alone affect what was going on scaring him more than being caught in the middle of it would have. He had hoped that Matt would come this time but Near was better than no one. "It's that one," he said quickly, pointing to the key, and seized it from the other boy as Near's shaking hands almost dropped them. "Is Matt ok?"

"I don't know, I don't know, he went to draw her out," Near said half-coherently, yanking on the grate. It screeched as it swung open and Mello swung out. "Here, quick, they know we're on board—" Near clapped his floppy black hat onto Mello's head and ripped off his frock coat, dancing with nervousness as Mello pulled on the sketchy disguise.

They raced in the dark under the thundering deck to the ladder, scampering up into the light, coughing in the smoky haze.

"Hey!" Teru shouted through the din and smoke, "isn't that—"

And then they were in the bright sun again, scampering across the main deck to the gangplank—

The guns roared furiously and the deck bucked, both boys went tumbling and Captain Kira screeched over the clamor, "It's a hit, we've got the damn worm!"

Something fell out of Mello's pocket as he tried to get back up; it was the sock with the red jewel in it. It began to roll across the sloping deck and he dove after it.

"Captain!" Taki screamed. Matt was flying just out of her reach, taunting her with the bandanna as Teru burst onto the main deck, "They're helping him escape!"

The one-eyed captain whirled around, ripping his attention from the wounded sea monster for the first time. "What—"

"Mello, come on!" Near cried as Teru ran toward them, drawing his scimitar.

"Wait, I have to get—"

Near snatched the sock and stuffed it into his shirt pocket. "I've got it, come on, we gotta go _now_!"

Mello began to stumble after him, and Teru seized him by the arm. "I've got one, captain! What—argh!"

Matt dropped onto his head as Mello kicked him in the ankle, the double impact knocking him to the deck. "Mel!" yelled the redhead, who had lost his hat in the fray. He dropped to his feet and clapped his friend on the back. "I was so worried—"

"Come on," Near yelled, loading a green-tufted dart into his blowpipe and trying to simultaneously watch all the pirates converging on the little group. Kira had drawn a rapier and was dashing down the stairs, Teru recovering quickly and Taki running at them with her sword in the air. He aimed at her but she ducked, weaving forward.

"Where the hell is Pan?" Matt cried as pirates began to come up from the stern deck to see where all the officers had gone.

As though saying his name summoned him, Pan shot down through the rigging. "I thought you were doing so swell on your own, I'd let you have a good run of it!" the wild boy crowed, diving to the deck like a rocket. "But look at this, you've roused the whole ship!" He laughed with delight.

"Pan!" Near cried in relief.

Taki dodged back as Captain Kira cried, "Don't touch him! Pan is mine!" Mello, Matt, and Near finally reached the gangplank, their way cleared by Pan's sudden appearance.

Pan laughed riotously. "I'd love to play, Kira, but we were actually just leaving! Thanks for the invite though—maybe we'll come back another time!" Grinning wildly, he zipped after the boys.

"Get them!" Kira screamed, "Bring Pan to me!"

They ran like hell, Pan laughing as though it was the most fun he'd had in his life.

Down the gangplank, across the dock, up the beach, into the trees. Mello let the floppy hat fly off; it was only in his way. Pan led the way through the jungle, slipping lightly through tangles of vines and branches, and the pirates bushwhacked behind them, making up what they lost in speed as they slashed through the flora in fright factor. Matt thought his heart would stop every time he heard the whistling _schwing_s and heavy chops behind them.

Near was by far the worst off. He sobbed for breath as they climbed through the ever steeper jungle. Finally Mello seized the younger boy by the hand and yanked him along, ignoring his gasping pleas to just leave him behind. Lungs burning and muscles aching and sweating madly, they stumbled on.

Suddenly they broke out of the flickering shade of the trees out into the sun. "Haha, catch us now!" Pan crowed joyfully, dashing across a short bare expanse of rock and flinging himself into the blue.

"Whoa!" Matt cried, and then his momentum carried him over the edge and he was gliding after Pan over the sparkling sea.

Near dug in his heels, dragging his bare feet on the rock. "No Mello no, no please I _can't_—"

Mello was stronger, hauling him up to the cliff's edge. He glanced down and wished he hadn't; it was a long way down, and the waves crashed and foamed around the rocks at the bottom.

"_No_!" Near cried in a blind panic, his fingers biting into Mello's arm. "Mello, _NO_—"

Taki and Teru burst out of the trees behind him, Teru pointing his pistol and aiming. No time. And Near had always proven that he was more than capable than Mello, could best him at almost everything, and see right through everything he did. He could certainly handle this.

"Don't be a wimp, Near!" Mello shouted, shoving his rival over the edge and jumping after him.

The shot whistled past his ear as he clung to the first happy thought that popped into his head: Near's expression of blatant envy that morning as Mello beat him at something important for the first time in his life. Spreading his arms, he soared after Matt and Pan.

"_Mellooooo!_" Near screamed, plummeting.

**AN:** O noes, cliffhanger! /pun


	6. Monster

**AN**: I'm sorry this took so long to come out! End of term is fast approaching, and deadlines for term projects are popping up all over like toadstools. grumble That and some difficulty I was having hacking out a plot kink conspired together to make this chapter much harder to write than previous ones have been. Unfortunately, due to my need to actually do work for school atm, it's likely that I won't be able to update as quickly as I was before, but I'll try to have a post a week if I can. Anyhow, enough blather, hope you enjoy.

.oOo.

Chapter 6: Monster.

Mello whipped around, the scream splintering his nerves. Time seemed to gel, the air suddenly thicker, too viscous to breathe properly. He was diving after Near, but he could no longer see him in the crashing spray and then he was falling too and the wind was so cold—

Hands seized his arms, jerking his fall to a halt. Pan and Matt were both yelling but he couldn't understand what they were saying. The smashing of the sea on the rocks thundered in his ears as he scanned the chaos desperately for a glimpse of Near's red bandanna and sash in the maelstrom of white and blue and black.

Matt struggled to keep his grip on the blonde and stay aloft. The horrifying image of turning back to see Near gone and Mello falling was quickly shoved to the back of his mind by the crack of a second pistol shot. The pirates were standing at the cliff's edge, firing down on them. "Mello!" he screamed in his friend's ear. "We have to get out of here!"

But Mello wasn't listening, shouting incoherently and trying to break free.

Pan solved the problem by punching him in the face.

With a roar of pain, Mello made as though to hit back. Since Pan was holding him up by the arm he was trying to punch with, this was not very effective.

"Come on, Mello, we gotta go!" Pan bellowed.

"Near—"

"There's nothing you can do for him right now! They'll shoot us down if we don't get away!" As though to punctuate his point, a bullet actually nicked one of Pan's feathers, knocking it out of his hair to flutter down to the booming waves below.

Mello stopped wriggling, his face white, but he couldn't seem to support himself in the air. Pan and Matt held him between them and they sped away, leaving the pirates behind, waving their pistols and jeering from the cliff's edge.

The cliffs declined, growing shorter and shorter then spreading down to a rocky beach. Matt flew numbly, not sure what was keeping him in the air except that he had to help Mello. They landed gracelessly, Pan lighting firmly on the rocks but Matt nearly collapsing in sudden exhaustion and Mello dropping stiffly to his knees. Almost immediately he stood, turned, and half-staggered back to the waves with hard eyes and a clenched jaw.

Pan watched, nonplussed, as Matt stumbled after him. He caught up with his friend as Mello splashed purposefully through the surf, throwing his arms around the blonde to restrain him. "Mello, stop!"

"We have to go back for him," Mello gritted out, wrestling against Matt's grip. "We gotta go find him!"

"Mello—" Matt's voice broke but he clung on. "Mello, there's nothing we can do, you can't help him now—"

"We can't leave him behind," Mello insisted. He elbowed Matt hard in the gut, and Matt knocked him down into the water, gamely holding him from behind, pinning his arms. Mello thrashed wildly.

"Mello...I'm sorry. You can't—"

"I have to!" Mello screamed at him. Matt just held him tightly.

"Near's gone, Mel."

The blonde went limp in his arms, his face hidden by his hair.

.oOo.

Pan had the tact to give them a few minutes, but then insisted that they return and rendezvous with the other children. The sun was beginning to set, he pointed out, and they didn't want to be trying to navigate the jungle in the dark.

Mello was frighteningly silent the whole walk—a cold, brittle silence that was stiff with anger. Matt didn't try to talk to him as they followed Pan through the vine-tangled trees; even if he had thought Mello wanted to be talked to, he wouldn't have been able to think of anything to say. He found himself increasingly distracted by his own thoughts. Matt was not devastated, precisely, and yet in a way that didn't seem too far off the mark. The whole situation seemed tiny and distant, as though he were watching it on a screen. Near was such a constant— always dressing the same way, doing the same things at the same times every day, that the idea that he wouldn't be around filling that predictable routine seemed unreal. Matt felt oddly cold despite the warmth of the dying afternoon and wondered if he were in shock.

Near and Matt had never been particular friends, or friends at all, really. Mello claimed to hate Near and Matt was Mello's friend, so he hadn't ever really considered going out of his way to be friendly to the younger boy, who didn't really invite friendliness anyway. But when he considered the last couple days, Near's strange fascination with this fairytale world as though it were a toy he could live in, his excitement on the beach upon seeing the pirate ship for the first time, his dazed surprise at himself after shooting that pirate..._He really isn't that bad of a kid, _Matt would think. _Maybe if Mello weren't so mad at him all the time it might be fun to get to know him a little._ And then with a jolt he would remember, _He _wasn't_, not isn't_.

He had been so young. It just didn't seem possible. Sure, people died, but in Matt's experience children were always the ones left behind, not the victims.

And what would they tell Roger? That they had let the smaller boy—what? Get lost? Get in an accident? He certainly wouldn't believe the truth, and what story could they possibly give him that wouldn't lead to serious trouble, given Mello and Near's infamous rivalry?

The thick jungle somehow no longer seemed magical and brimming with adventurous possibilities in the deepening dusk, but creepy and full of shadows where treacherous things might be lurking. _Mello had been right_, he thought miserably. They should have made Pan take them back to Wammy's before any of this had happened. In the end Neverland wasn't any different from the real world.

They heard the Lost Boys before they saw them, sitting around a tree laughing and throwing clumps of leaves at each other. Matt was suddenly struck with how oblivious they were. Near was dead, and here they were playing games.

"Hey!" Turtle cried as they came into sight, whooping with delight. "That was AWESOME! Too bad we missed out on EVERYTHING—"

"Yeah, you guys got all the fun!" Cinder rejoined, "but we were watching, you really got Kira good, slipping out from under his nose like that—"

"Yeah and grabbing Taki's bandanna, that was really—"

"Where's Near?" Brown asked, tilting his head lazily.

"Not sure," said Pan cheerfully, stopping both Mello and Matt in their tracks, too shocked for a second to react. "Is Cherry around? I was going to have her go ask—"

"She went to make a cake to celebrate," Turtle said just as Mello snarled, "He fell."

Everyone looked at him, Pan with mild surprise, and the Lost Boys curiously. "What do you mean, he fell? You didn't leave that poor klutz to find his way in the dark, did you?" Cinder said.

"Don't worry, Mello," Pan chuckled.

"Don't worry," Mello repeated, as though he had never conceived that anything so completely idiotic could be actually spoken aloud by anyone intelligent enough to be capable of speech, and wasn't sure how to respond to it. His face began to redden.

Pan smiled easily. "I'm sure Near's fine. We'll just ask Leslie and the girls if they've seen him, and—"

"It was at least fifty feet. With rocks at the bottom. He can barely swim," Mello grated, his hands clenching convulsively. "Do you _know_ what the statistical probability of his surviving that fall is? Let alone getting to shore!"

"Mello," Pan laughed, holding up his hands, "you are taking this way too seriously. If I had known that you thought he was a goner all this time—"

"_Too seriously_?" Mello shrieked. "He's _dead_, you asshole! Died in your stupid fairy tale world, playing your stupid fairy tale games! He's dead, and it's all your damn fault!" He launched himself at Pan, his eyes crazed, lunging for the older boy's throat.

The Lost Boys stared open-mouthed. Matt cried out and tried to pull Mello back, but before he reached them Pan dropped to the ground and delivered a swift kick to Mello's gut. "I'll ignore that, seeing as how you're a bit out of it," he said coolly as the blonde fell backward, gasping, his cheeks scarlet with rage. "Oh, Cherry! There you are!" Pan turned away from them, beaming as the cake fairy fluttered to the group, flying low under the weight of a large cake.

It was chocolate, Mello noticed, and suddenly felt as though someone had roughly scooped out his insides and replaced them with something hot and foul and bubbling, thick as tar. The memory of rich cacao made him nauseous.

"Oh, Mello, it's chocolate," Matt said, thinking that it would at least distract the other boy from trying to throttle their only guide back out of this place.

Mello burst inexplicably into tears.

Matt might still be numb, the redhead realized, but Mello was taking Near's death very hard indeed. Unsure of what to do, he crouched by his friend, putting a tentative hand on his shoulder. "Hey," he said awkwardly, then didn't know how to go on. 'It's going to be ok' was an insultingly transparent lie, and anything of the truth would hardly be comforting at the moment.

Cinder and Brown had no such hesitations. As Turtle relieved Cherry of her burden and Pan gave her his instructions, the two of them hurried to Mello, Cinder throwing her skinny arms around his shoulders and Brown saying in his slow, soothing voice, "Pan will take care of everything, Mello. Your friend is going to be ok."

Mello just cried harder into his arms, shaking his head.

"They're not even friends," Turtle scoffed tactlessly as he came over with the cake. Cinder glared at him, hugging Mello protectively. "Jeez, Turtle, shut up."

Mello said something incoherent. "What Mel?" Matt asked anxiously, taking the cue from Cinder and putting his arm around his friend.

His shoulders hitched. "It's all my fault," Mello choked.

"Ah, jeez, Mel—we were all in a panic, what else could you have done, left him there to be shot?" Matt felt his own eyes starting to sting as the situation began to sink in.

"He said he couldn't do it and I just threw him over...and..." Mello sucked in a deep breath, "I made him fall, Matt, I was thinking about him falling..."

Cinder hugged him tighter as Pan walked over to the little clump, Cherry's flickering glow darting away into the trees. "That was my happy thought, Matt, that Near couldn't fly!" He sobbed uncontrollably.

"Doesn't work that way," Pan said reasonably, crouching in front of him. "You can't affect someone else's happy thought with yours."

The blonde ignored him. "And he saw right through me," he went on hoarsely, "if you guys hadn't come to get me it would never have happened..."

"Mello," Pan interrupted firmly. "Trust me. Don't give up on Near. He's probably fine."

"That's not really likely," Matt said, starting to become angry with Pan's cavalier attitude, as Mello looked over the top of his sleeve with bloodshot eyes and growled, "_Give up_?! You _stopped_ me from helping him!"

"You could not have caught him in time," Pan said patiently. "You would have fallen too."

Mello wished he had, but didn't dare say so. "Just leave me alone," he muttered, burying his face again and huddling into a tense, prickly ball.

"Let him chill out," Pan told them, and Cinder let her arms drop. Matt stayed with his friend as the Lost Boys backed off. "We'll stay here tonight," the wild boy went on, "and wait for Cherry to come back..." Matt tuned him out.

"I'm sorry," he murmured. Pushing his goggles into his hair, he rubbed tiredly at his eyes. Mello turned his head sideways in his arms to look miserably at him.

"Me too," he croaked.

.oOo.

Someone was touching him—that was the first thing he noticed, flinching away. The next thing he noticed almost immediately was that he was lying on his belly on warm, smooth stone, and that he was sore all over.

The gentle hand ignored his reaction, brushing the wet curls off his forehead. He was confused. Where was he? There was only one person who had ever caressed him that way (or been allowed to) and she was—

"Mommy?" he tried to say, and retched up seawater instead. More hands held up his head and pounded his back, forcing him to cough it all up. Vaguely he heard murmuring voices, and then everything was dark again.

When Near woke again the sky was blazing rose and violet, gold banners curling to usher the sun into the sea. Around him were the sounds of laughing and splashing and lilting voices. Blinking up at the sky, Near tried to remember where he was and how he had gotten there. He seemed to remember falling off a rather large cliff after being chased by pirates, and the fact that his back and limbs felt rather stiff seemed to support this as fact; but he was apparently still alive, and that made rather less sense.

"Hey Les! He's awake!" called a voice very close by. Turning his head, he saw that he was lying on a rock a little out from the shore of a short, pebbly beach fenced by high cliffs that reached out to hug a small grotto, the walls of which were green with trailing vines and drooping clusters of flowers. There were people, perhaps a dozen of them, playing in the grotto, and a young woman was in the water a mere couple feet from his face, relaxing with her crossed arms propped up on his rock. She regarded him with open curiousity and a sweet smile, and a large pink flower was stuck in her pale blond hair.

Words failed, so he voiced the first stupid thing that floated to the top of his mind. "I'm alive," Near said, and it might have been a question.

"Sure are," she said brightly.

He stared at the sky again. "I fell?"

"Sure did." The girl laughed, a clear laugh that tinkled like small bells.

Near shook his head, barely able to believe it. "Do you know what the statistical probability of my surviving that fall was?"

Someone giggled from his other side. Another girl was in the water there, orange flowers bound up in her dark hair. "I like him. He's funny."

"He's cute," the first one agreed. Near frowned, not sure he cared for being characterized as either cute or funny.

Something large and silvery splashed nearby, and a third flowered head popped out of the water, this one a dark blond with green eyes. "He's awake? So he is," she said, looking him over. Planting her slender hands on the edge of the rock, she levered herself up to sit next to him. Instead of legs, the skin of her waist transitioned smoothly to tiny silver-green scales and a long, tapered tail that flared into a webbed fin.

Near breathed in, giddy with the overwhelming realization of just how magical Neverland really was. Jump off a cliff and instead of getting smashed on rocks or drowning, you got rescued by mermaids. Suddenly anything seemed possible. Normal rules just didn't appear to apply.

_If people don't grow up here, maybe they don't die here either. _Not that he intended to go out of his way to test that possibility again.

"I'm Leslie, and these are Hallie and Stefani," said the mermaid, pointing to her blond and dark-haired companions in turn. "How ya feeling?"

Near sat up slowly. He was a little stiff, but was no longer sore, not even scratched. His bandanna seemed to have gotten lost in the mix (he hadn't liked it anyway) but that was apparently the only damage he had sustained. "Fine," he said, surprised. "I'm Near."

Stefani giggled again. "That's a funny name," she said, then squealed as Hallie splashed her. "Be nice!"

"I am being nice," she retorted, sticking her tongue out. "I didn't say it was a _bad _name."

"You one of Pan's new boys?" Leslie asked, ignoring the antics of the other two.

Near adjusted himself to sit in his favorite position. "I suppose so."

"We saw them," Hallie piped up.

"Yeah, Pan and the other two new ones," Stefani chimed in. "We almost had two guests, the one in black tried to jump in after Near here. Pan must not have told him about us—they had to drag him away to keep from being shot." She winked at Near. "You have pretty brave friends."

Unsure of how to respond to _that_ interesting piece of information, Near twirled a curl of his now-dry hair around one finger. Hallie and Stefani exchanged glances—_How cute! _He stopped abruptly and they giggled.

"Be nice, girls," Leslie scolded them, seeing his discomfort. "Well then, Pan'll probably be sending the fairy 'round to make sure you're with us. You can stay with us tonight—she can tell us where to meet them and we'll swim you there when it's lighter." The sun had set completely now, and the reddish glow in the west was fading quickly, giving way to the ghostly light of the moon.

"Still no open water after sundown, Les?" Hallie said, laughing.

Leslie stuck her tongue out. "Ryuk's hanging around, I wanna be able to see him coming."

"Ooh, the big bad monster," Stefani said, making a mock-scary face and fanning her hands around her head. All three girls broke into giggles.

"Still though, you wouldn't want to meet him alone at night in open water, Stef," Leslie retorted, rolling her eyes. Stefani just laughed.

"Well then," Hallie said, her dark eyes lighting again on Near, "if you're staying the night you can come play with us!"

"Ah—" Near eyed the mermaids laughing and splashing in the moonlit water. "I don't really swim..."

"Awwwww, come on," Stefani coaxed.

"We won't let you sink," Leslie said reassuringly.

"Yeah, if we can catch you diving unexpectedly into the surf, we can totally take care of you in quiet water," said Hallie. "It'll be fun! Unless you _want_ to sit on that rock all night."

Near rather thought that didn't sound like such a bad alternative, but the mermaids were not about to let him off that easily, and were even more tenacious than Mello.

"Pleeeease?" Hallie was saying a full fifteen minutes later, fluttering her eyelashes at him.

"Well..." Near's reluctance was weakening in the face of their insistence. He hadn't counted on being nagged all night.

"Yay!" Stefani cried gleefully, seizing him by the wrist. With a startled yelp he toppled sideways into the water. Near gasped quickly, bracing to go under, but the mermaid caught him under the arms and he didn't even get his hair wet.

"Stef!" Leslie scolded.

"He's fine," Stefani protested. "Just relax!" she told Near, giggling as he kicked spasmodically to stay afloat. The powerful beats of her fishlike tail kept them up effortlessly. The mermaids were evidently much stronger than their girlish figures suggested. With an effort he forced his muscles to relax, putting out one hand to hold onto the rock just in case.

Laughing, Leslie slid gracefully into the water and Hallie flipped her tail and joined them. "See, it's not so bad, is it?" said Hallie, her hair streaming as she surfaced.

Actually, it wasn't horrible. The water was warm and sort of soothing on his stiff limbs, and although he was a little uncomfortable with the mermaids' proximity and Stefani's gentle grip on his arms, he could see that they were right. It was very unlikely that he was going to drown under their watchful eyes. Concentrating on breathing slowly, he gradually let his hand drop from the rock into the water.

"That's it," said Leslie encouragingly. "Easy does it..."

With a flick of her tail Stefani pushed them away from the rock. "Come on," she said mischievously. "We'll teach you how to swim!"

"That's really not necessary—" started Near, wishing she hadn't left the comfortingly solid rock so soon.

"At least how to float," Hallie temporized. "You'll like it, we promise. Nothing's better than being in the water."

"I really don't—what is that?" Near asked, half out of curiousity and half to distract them.

Something was glowing faintly in the water a little ways from them, a pale greenish blue light that shimmered in ribbons and splotches. As the last purple faded to black in the sky, the glow grew stronger.

"Fluorescence," Leslie told him, grinning at his interested expression.

"The whole grotto is full of coral," said Hallie. "And a lot of it's grown over with fluorescent anemones."

"Wanna go look closer?" Stef asked slyly.

"...ok," said Near hesitantly.

_Floating_, thought Near quite a while later, _might just be even better than sitting_. They had spent a while exploring the reef, with its twisted turrets and walls like a sprawling fairy castle. Stefani had even persuaded him to paddle a little way on his own (out of reach of his rock, he really didn't have any way to argue). Now the long strenuous day was catching up with him, and Hallie and Leslie had had mercy on the boy and told Stefani to let him rest a little. He felt completely weightless, rocked gently by the water, the distant rush of the surf on the beach and the splashing of the playful mermaids lulling him into an almost meditative state. Without the sun counting off the hours, time strolled unhurriedly through the moonlit darkness. He even thought the mermaids' almost constant laughter was growing on him, or at least not as irritating as it had been at first. All Near needed for this to be completely soothing was a boat or a duck or some other toy. _Perhaps he could make one out of a coconut or something_, he thought whimsically, and giggled at the mental image.

Hallie chuckled. "You were so quiet, I thought you might have fallen asleep."

"I don't think I'd still be floating if I were asleep," Near pointed out lazily, not opening his eyes.

"Then you were so quiet you might have sunk right to the bottom, asleep, and not even you would have noticed," Stefani teased.

They were back by the rock again. Leslie sat sideways on top of it, rebraiding Stefani's long black hair into intricate loops. Hallie lounged against the rock, watching and making suggestions every now and then, keeping an eye on the little boy floating in the water and making sure he didn't drift too far away.

"You won't let me sink," said Near drowsily.

"Oh, I suppose not, since you're so cute," said Hallie, flicking water at him.

Near calmly ignored both the comment and the cool drops that sprinkled his face. He was far too relaxed to put forth the effort necessary to react. Then he squealed in surprise and thrashed as slender fingers unexpectedly tickled his sides.

"That was mean," he grumbled as all three mermaids burst into laughter, Hallie taking him by the arms to keep him from going under. Near splashed her petulantly with one hand, which only made them laugh harder. The uplit glow of the water made their pretty faces look surreal in the darkness, and Near wondered for a moment if he looked as elfin as they did in the eerie light.

Another light in the blackness near the mouth of the grotto caught his eye, a single red dot of crimson fire that was strangely mesmerizing. It winked out for a second, and then came back. It seemed to be growing slowly larger. "Is that a different kind of anemone?" he asked, pointing.

"What?" asked Leslie, and as they turned to look screams broke out across the grotto.

There was a colossal splash and Near's veins went ice cold despite the warm water as the moonlight glinted on a huge coil rising out of the water, a looming shadow against the fluorescent water following the burning red spot. Mermaids shrieked and dove away, toward shallower water and the rocky beach. "It's Ryuk!" Stefani cried.

Before Near could begin to analyze the situation, Hallie and Stefani had seized him between them and they were speeding for shore, Leslie right behind them.

"I can reach," he gasped as he felt rocks scraping his legs, and they let him go to scramble to his feet. Standing was strangely awkward after being in the water for so long but he didn't have time to let himself acclimate. Near splashed frantically over the slippery rocks to the beach, the mermaids hauling themselves bodily along beside him.

The water broke open behind them and Near drew in a sharp breath as the serpent's head reared high above them, towering almost half as high as the cliff that encircled the grotto before sliding down with a rushing splash, crashing and coiling onto the beach. Everyone sat frozen as the enormous monster sprawled half in and half out of the water, its raspy panting echoing in the grotto.

After a long moment of nothing happening, Stefani burst helplessly into mad giggles. Hallie shushed her with no effect, and Near rolled his eyes. Was there anything mermaids _didn't_ laugh about?

"What now?" Near whispered. They couldn't go anywhere. The beach was closed off by the cliffs, and the mermaids probably couldn't get far on land anyway. On the other hand, the monster didn't seem to be about to attack. Was this some sort of trap? Wouldn't a sea serpent be at a greater advantage attacking in the water instead of chasing them all up onto the beach and then taking a break before coming after them? He remembered earlier that day, the thundering cannons and Captain Kira's triumphant yell. Sometimes whales beached themselves to die. Had the beast been mortally wounded, and come here to gasp out its last minutes?

"Not sure," Leslie murmured. "Usually he just chases us around a bit and gets bored and leaves...maybe this is a new game." She wrinkled her nose. "Ugh...he smells horrible."

"Way worse than usual," Hallie agreed.

Near noticed the stench, an odd combination of raw fish and rotten apples. "Maybe he's injured," he suggested. "The pirates were firing at him earlier."

"Hm, maybe," said Leslie, then to Near's alarm yelled loudly, "Hey, seaworm! What's wrong? Kira stick a pin in you?"

Ryuk let out a low, rumbling growl. "No, fishgirl, I thought I'd come sun myself on the beach," he retorted, his voice raspy and grating. Hearing intelligible speech come from the huge snake was a little unnerving.

"What do you want?" she called, perching on a rock and crossing her arms imperiously. Near couldn't help but admire her gall, although he wasn't sure about the wisdom of talking so casually to a giant monster that could easily have snapped her up in one bite. On the other hand, neither the mermaid nor the serpent seemed to be taking the situation entirely seriously. What on earth was this, a huge game?

"Isn't this a little dangerous?" he muttered quietly to Stefani.

"Pssht, don't worry," she whispered back. "He's unpredictable, but he probably won't do anything."

"Get over here," rumbled the serpent. "I need hands."

"What's that?" said Leslie, cupping a hand to her ear. "You need our help? Big bad Ryuk wants help from the fishgirls?" The mermaids scattered along the beach giggled.

"Consider it a favor," Ryuk growled, then added almost as an afterthought, "or else I'll eat you all."

Leslie laughed, then flopped into the water. "Come on girls," she said, rolling her eyes, "let's go see what the big worm wants."

"What?" Near squeaked, stumbling after Hallie and Stefani, who were giggling as usual. "Are you sure this is a good—"

"Don't worry, silly," Hallie laughed.

The mermaids and Near (hanging back a little) gathered around the beached monster. The smell was even worse closer up. Ryuk's body was almost twice as thick as Near was tall, heaving with every breath he took. With disgust the boy saw that the serpent's skin was not simply like a large snake's, as he had assumed, but almost like a patchwork of dull, blue-black scales and thick greyish skin more like a whale's, nightmarishly bound together with heavy metallic staple-like stitches like something out of a Tim Burton film. As they approached the beast lifted his head from the rocks to peer at them over his tumbled coils. Gleaming fangs shone against the dark, reptilian face framed with long, feather-like spines, and a single tiny red eye glinted at the group. The right socket was black and empty. _Just like Captain Kira_, the thought popped into Near's head.

The crimson eye lit on Near, blinking. "A human, fishgirl? Are you stealing boys from Pan again?"

"It's not everyone's company we can't stand, just yours," Stefani teased.

Ryuk cackled. "All the better...he'll be useful."

"Useful for what?" said Leslie, as Hallie and Stefani drew protectively closer to Near.

"Obnoxious fishgirl," snorted the monster. "Yes, that plumed pirate got me. I've been squirming around all afternoon and I can't get the ball out. It's not funny," he growled, as the mermaids broke into giggles.

"You've survived this long, I'm sure you're not seriously hurt," Leslie retorted. "Anyway, why should we help you?" she asked slyly.

Ryuk gave her a long-suffering look, which was quite an accomplishment for a fanged, one-eyed sea monster. "Don't make me chew your empty head off."

Leslie laughed. "All right then. Get where we can see it, fishbreath."

They all backed away as Ryuk wriggled down into the water, rolling so that the dark oozing hole could be seen. He shifted his considerable weight so that Leslie and Hallie could pull themselves up onto a rock to look at it more closely.

"Hmm," said Hallie.

"Well?" Ryuk demanded.

"You really smell," Leslie told him. The monster harrumphed. "Would you like to find out if your insides smell any better?" The mermaids laughed off the threat.

"It's hard to see," Hallie said, holding her nose and peering at the hole. "You might be better off waiting til light."

"But it really hurts," whined Ryuk. "And I've been putting up with it all day and half the night."

"Big whiner," muttered Stefani, giggling.

Near didn't know what to think anymore. This had to be the most bizarre situation he had ever witnessed.

Suddenly, overhead, a light whizzed down like a falling star, circling wide around the beached sea serpent and swooping down. "Cherry!" cried Near in surprise. The cake fairy landed on his outstretched hand, clinging to his thumb and chattering frantically, pointing to Ryuk.

"Ah, I knew she'd come looking for you," said Leslie brightly, and Ryuk peered at them with a narrowed eye.

"Yes, I know, it's all right," Near told the fairy, although he wasn't sure if he believed himself. "We're just giving him a hand."

Cherry eyed Ryuk suspiciously, hugging Near's thumb tightly and getting sugardust all over his hands. "Hey," said Near, "Cherry can give you light. If she agrees, that is."

"That's a great idea!" cried Hallie, and Stefani ruffled his curls energetically. "Aww, you're so smart Near!" He winced.

The fairy looked up at him skeptically. "It'll be ok," he told her with more certainty than he felt. The sooner they helped Ryuk, the sooner the serpent would go away. He hoped.

"Bring her on over, Near!" Leslie said.

Near frowned. He hadn't actually meant to go closer to the sea monster himself. Hesitantly he waded through the water, and Hallie reached down and pulled him up onto the rock to hold the fairy closer. The rotting stench was much worse closer up, and a thick, oily slime oozed slowly from the injury. It looked pretty big to Near, but he supposed in comparison to Ryuk's colossal body it wasn't that serious. He wondered how many 24-pound shots it would actually take to incapacitate the monster, and if Captain Kira's ship was even capable of getting in enough hits or one accurate enough to kill him.

The fairy's glimmering light cast the ripped scales and torn muscle into sharp relief, and lodged in the flesh the miraculously intact ball glinted dully. "Hmm," said Leslie. "It's not in deep, just in under the skin a way...it must have hit sort of side-on."

"So do something about it," grumbled Ryuk.

"Quiet," Leslie said absently. "Near, you have legs. Could you climb up there and sort of hold back the skin so we can dig it out?"

"Er—what?" said Near, alarmed. This was definitely more than he had bargained for. And really, he thought, it hadn't been much of a bargain in the first place.

"Don't worry," said Hallie reassuringly, "We won't let anything happen to you."

"Ah..." he said faintly. Ryuk dipped his head down. "Need some encouragement?" he rumbled.

"Ryuk, be nice to him or he won't help you," Stefani scolded.

Near considered the chances; help perform field surgery on a giant sea monster, or possibly get eaten by said monster. This was ridiculous. The situation was so weird he didn't even know how to start reasoning through it. Better to just get it over with.

"Uh, ok," he said reluctantly, letting Cherry flutter into the air. Before climbing up he unwound his sash and pulled off his shirt, folding it neatly and setting it down on a large rock. Much as he had disliked the rough sailcloth when Pan first convinced him to wear the disguise, it was the closest thing he had to a clean white garment at the moment; his pajamas, now abandoned in the jungle somewhere, had been stained with dye and dirt and moss and who knew what else. There was no way he was going to get sea monster slime all over this one. For a second he noted curiously that there was a large lump in the pocket—_it must be that thing that Mello dropped_, he thought distractedly before putting it out of his mind to concentrate on the unpleasant task ahead.

Hallie gave him a wink and an encouraging smile as Leslie boosted him up bodily. He scrambled up, using the weird metal stitches like ladder rungs. Rolling awkwardly onto his belly, he peered down, wrinkling his nose at the horrible smell and trying to ignore the serpent's head hanging above him to watch. Several of the other mermaids were now clustered around curiously too, cheering them on. The dull scales were a lot smoother than they looked, he noted thankfully. Cherry landed by the edge of the tear, making a face, and Ryuk twitched. "Ugh, sugardust," the monster muttered.

"Ok Near," said Hallie, far more enthusiastically than Near thought anyone getting ready to stick their hands into a sea serpent's gory side had a right to be. "Just hold here and here, and sort of pull it gently."

Feeling slightly sick, Near did as she instructed. Ryuk's flesh was horribly spongy and sort of greasy, but it stretched much more elastically than he expected. The monster snapped his teeth in pain and Near flinched.

"Don't move, now," said Leslie, and she and Hallie reached in.

Near's fingers began to grow sore as mermaids worked gently away at the firmly lodged ball, and Ryuk's growls and sudden gasps were making him edgy. He cast about for something that would distract the both of them through this wretched task. Near wasn't the best conversationalist even in normal circumstances, and he had no idea what would interest a sea monster. _So, what are the squid migration patterns like this time of year? _"What happened to your eye?" he asked finally.

Ryuk snarled, and Near winced. _Ok, maybe too tactless._ But after a moment the creature answered crabbily, "It got stolen."

"Stolen?" Near repeated. How on earth did someone steal an eye?

Stefani burst out laughing and Ryuk glared at her. "Oh, come on," she chuckled. "You started it."

"Did not!" Ryuk snapped, shifting.

"Stop moving," said Leslie, "and Stef, stop picking on him, you're making him fidget."

Now curious, Near wondered how to probe further without riling up the beast. Ryuk solved the problem for him by saying huffily, "I only took Kira's eye. He shoots at me all the time AND took my eye. That's hardly fair."

"Only took his eye?" Stefani scoffed. "You're always chasing those pirates all over the lagoon."

"It's all in fun," Ryuk said defensively.

"Until you poked his eye out."

"It was an accident!" the monster said.

"So, does he still have your eye then?" Near asked out of morbid curiousity.

"Yeah," he grumbled, and scowled fiercely at Stefani when she laughed.

Near wriggled a little, tightening his grip. His arms were getting tired. "Almost there," Hallie muttered, glancing up to give him a small smile. "You're doing great, Near."

"Why don't you just steal it back?" the boy asked Ryuk, trying to ignore the fresh wave of rotten fish and fruit as the ball shifted.

"What, climb on board his ship and rummage around with my dainty prehensile tail?" scoffed Ryuk. He had a point. "Aaarrgh!"

With a horrible squelch, the heavy iron ball popped out. Hallie and Leslie shrieked and laughed, jumping out of the way as it bounced on the rock, cracking off several chunks of stone, and splashed into the surf. Near let go with a huge sigh of relief, sitting up and shuddering as he wiped his hands off on his pirate pants. Chattering disgustedly, Cherry fluttered up to his shoulder and clung to his hair.

The boy yelped as Ryuk shifted, clinging to the scales. "Oh, that's so much better," the monster groaned.

"You're welcome," Leslie smirked. "Now you owe us one."

"Yeah, yeah," said the serpent.

"Thanks," Near told Cherry. She smiled weakly at him, still looking rather ill. "You can go back to Pan and tell him and Matt and..." he faltered. "And...the others that I'm ok."

Ryuk loomed over them, giving Near a calculating look. "Going back to Pan, are you?"

"Yep," Leslie answered for him, smiling at Near. "His friends'll be worrying. This one jumped off a cliff to see us." The mermaids giggled.

"Hmm," rumbled the sea monster. "I might have a word with Pan..." His huge, fang-packed mouth gaped in a terrifying smile. "How would you like a ride?"


End file.
